She's in My Veins
by J.D. Cunegan
Summary: Ricki Castle is a famous novelist and the object of many a fanboy's desire. But when a murder brings her into contact with the NYPD, Ricki finds herself both inspired and smitten with Detective Beckett. Obviously AU.
1. Chapter 1: Stormfall

_Jacob K. Javits Convention Center, New York…_

Ricki Castle wasn't actually her name, but in her opinion, it looked a lot better on the _New York Times_ bestseller list than Rebecca Abigail Rodgers. Besides, she was far from the first author to use a pen name.

She just legally changed to her pen name for convenience's sake.

As much as Ricki loved book signings, seeing lines wrapping around the block full of people eager for a few seconds of her time and her barely legible signature, truth was she loved conventions even more – especially if she was invited to speak at a panel. Something about people turning to her for insight or advice into the craft of writing that stroked her ego just right.

So here she sat, at the world-famous New York Comic Con, her black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She wore her best royal blue button-down, keeping the top three buttons undone. A black blazer and navy blue jeans completed the look.

Ricki wasn't just here to speak on the Women in Fiction panel – of the six planned speakers, she and a comic book writer named Gail were the only women – she was also celebrating the fact that her creative meal ticket, CIA hunk-a-thon Derrick Storm, was now the star of a graphic novel.

Thankfully, Black Pawn had worked closely with Marvel Comics to ensure a faithful transition from novel to sequential art. It was far better than the _Unholy Storm_ movie they made, which wound up going straight to video after a myriad of script and casting issues. It was so bad that when Black Pawn asked about movie rights for the forthcoming _Storm Fall_, Ricki said no without hesitation.

_But Ricki_, her publicist, Paul, had whined. _Think of the millions!_

Ricki already had millions. Paul was just worried about his damn commission.

Pushing logistics of the publishing world aside, Ricki put on her best smile and sat up a little straighter when a skinny boy, probably no older than 15, approached a microphone standing among the crowd. She clutched her own mic in both hands, resting in her lap. She knew it looked suggesting as hell, and she didn't care.

After all, Ricki Castle had an image to live up to.

"Ms. Castle…" The boy swallowed, clearly nervous. "Is it true that _Storm Fall_ will be the last Derrick Storm novel?"

Ricki rolled her eyes, but the smile never faltered. "First of all, Ms. Castle is my mother." Scattered laughter from the crowd. Ricki slipped her hand over her ponytail before flipping it in front of her left shoulder.

"And yes." She sighed, perhaps a little too dramatically. "_Storm Fall_ will be the last book in the Derrick Storm series."

A hushes murmur came over the crowd, and the boy apparently forgot the one-question limit, because she leaned toward the mic again, with a renewed sense of bravado. "Then what's next?"

Truth be told, that was a good question. Ricki didn't have an answer. Well, she didn't have a _good_ answer, because technically, "I don't know" was an answer. She sighed, trying to keep it light to fit the celebratory mood of the convention, squinting her brown eyes and shrugging her shoulders.

""Well, Alexis starts high school in the fall." Ricki's face brightened considerably at the mention of her daughter, who lived with her in their loft in SoHo. Alexis was bright beyond her years and, arguably, far more mature than Ricki. Given Ricki's personality and her rocky relationship with Alexis' father, Martin, she wasn't sure where the redhead got it.

It certainly hadn't come from Ricki's mother, Martha.

A faceless voice jumped from the crowd. "You're not retiring, are you?"

Ricki smirked. "Please! Patterson will off Alex Cross for good before I stop writing." A playful remark, knowing full well the rest of her poker buddies would needle James Patterson over it the next time they all met for cards, laughs, and drinks.

"You know…" She chewed on her lower lip, glancing at the ceiling in thought. "I'm not sure. Just…be on the lookout for something new and exciting whenever the inspiration strikes. In the meantime, there's always my new Derrick Storm graphic novel. I'll be signing copies at the Marvel booth at 3:30."

Flashbulbs exploded, the crowd murmuring and clamoring for more of Ricki's time. She smiled and waved before glancing into one of the cameras, giving her best seductive look, and blowing a kiss. Out of the corner of her eye, Ricki was sure she saw a fanboy faint.

* * *

><p><em>Downtown New York…<em>

"Allison Tisdale, 20 years old. She's a social worker." Javier Esposito read off the facts as Kate Beckett walked into the crime scene, purpose in each step and focus in her steely gaze. The detective focused her green eyes straight ahead, even as she slapped on baby blue latex gloves and joined Lanie Parish, the ME, by the body.

"Don't let the elaborate staging fool you." Lanie glanced up at her friend, clicking her pen and making a note on her metal clipboard. "Cause of death is two gunshots to the chest."

Kate chewed on her lower lip, brushing a strand of her short hair – brown with a hint of red. Recognition threatened to overwhelm her. Not because of the victim – she'd never met Allison Tisdale – but the staging. The naked body, covered in red rose petals, giant yellow sunflowers covering her eyes.

A crime of passion, this wasn't. Nor did it appear to be a revenge killing or some other mundane motive – unless the killer was using this elaborate, purposeful staging to throw them off the scent. Kate filed that thought away for later, choosing instead of focus on the body in front of her.

"This look familiar to anyone?" Kate's eyes surveyed the others.

Lanie and Esposito glanced at each other and shook their heads. Detective Kevin Ryan – looking every bit as Irish as the name suggested – came over from across the room, the knot on his blue tie so big Kate thought she could land a plane on it.

"I think I know." He gave his partner a smug grin. "Our killer was a fan of mystery novels. Ricki Castle books, to be exact."

"Pretty big fan, too." Kate nodded, wandering to Allison's head and crouching to get a better look at the flowers. "Our killer re-enacted a murder from _Flowers for Your Grave_."

"No kidding." Ryan shook his head. "How much more obscure can you get?"

Lanie and Esposito exchanged another glance, before Esposito arched a brow at Kate. "You actually read that mess? Ryan, I get, but _you_?"

Kate shugged, trying her best to be nonchalant. "Sometimes."

Lanie sauntered past her friend, placing a glove-covered hand on her shoulder. "Girl, would it kill you to have some fun in your life?" She waved off Kate's look of confusion and indignation. "I mean, really, curling up with Castle books on a Friday night? Why not go live a little? Pick up a man…hell, pick up a woman, if you want."

Before Kate could respond, Lanie pointed at her. "A little lipstick wouldn't hurt, either."

* * *

><p><em>Jacob K. Javits Convention Center…<em>

This part was less fun. The _Storm Fall_ launch party that Paul and the big wigs at Black Pawn sprung for amid the convention. The hype surrounding the graphic novel was nothing but fun, but Ricki was suddenly reminded of just how exhausting launching her novels was anymore.

She waved at a throng of fans, wearing a pair of sunglasses to shield herself from the flashbulbs. They were no more numerous than at the panel earlier, but in the confined space tucked in the back of the convention center, they seemed far brighter.

Combine the lights with the thumping bass pouring out of the speakers – a DJ for a book launch? – and Ricki found herself battling one hell of a headache.

Leaning in, she whispered to Paul. "Why does the publicity push get bigger with each novel?"

Paul smirked, running a hand through his slicked-back hair. "Price of fame."

"This will be my twenty-first bestseller." She shrugged. "Shouldn't 'new Ricki Castle novel' suffice by now?"

Before Paul could answer, Ricki slipped away from him, wandering down the steps leading off the stage, waving at more fans and pausing to sign a few autographs. A nameless blonde approached her, breath reeking of alcohol, pushing down the front of her chest to show her ample cleavage.

Old hat by now, Ricki knew what she wanted, scrawling black Sharpie across the woman's skin.

Capping the marker, Ricki wandered to the bar without acknowledging the other woman's thanks. Alcohol sounded really good at the moment, and Ricki gave the bartender a thankful glance when he already had a glass of champagne at the ready. She downed half of the glass in one gulp and sighed.

"You used to have fun at these things." A flighty voice broke through the din.

Ricki turned and gave a forced smile. "About fifteen books ago, mother."

Martha gave a dismissive wave of her hand, her emerald dress going surprisingly well with her red hair. The older woman's eyes scanned the crowd, even as she spoke to her daughter. "Oh, _lighten up_, Rebecca." Ricki cringed every time her mother used her given name. "The booze is free, the fans are in love with you, and I'm willing to bet at least half of them want to sleep with you." Martha's eyes lit up. "Oh, speaking of…"

The older woman clapped her hands together. "No ring!" Martha grabbed the flute of champagne from Ricki's hand, downing the rest and setting the glass on the bar. "Look out, everyone! Mama's on the prowl!"

As Martha wandered into the crowd, Ricki could barely make out the sing-song "Don't wait up!"

Ricki sighed and shook her head, leaning her elbows on the bar and casting a sideways glance at another, much younger redhead. "Why did I let you talk me into coming here?"

"Don't look at me, mom." Alexis shrugged, but the look in her eyes told Ricki she was actually enjoying herself. "It's your book, your party."

Ricki cringed, waving for another drink. "It's just…it's so predictable now."

Alexis folded her arms across her chest, eyebrows arched. She enjoyed giving her mother a hard time like this. "What, looking for something other than chests to sign?"

"No." Ricki sighed again, tugging on the collar of her white button-down. "I mean, yes. I mean…" She shook her head and twirled the Sharpie in her free hand, sipping on her new drink. "It's all so fake, so…shallow."

"But…you do shallow."

Ricki flashed an annoyed glare at her daughter, but instantly softened. "I used to be cool. I used to be the talk of the town, the kind of person whose exploits wound up on Page Six while the book sales skyrocketed. Now I'm here at the bar, hanging out with my just-teenage daughter on a school night."

Ricki frowned. "Why are you here, anyway? Don't you have boys to chase after or wild gossip to spread with your friends?"

Alexis shrugged. "I never miss your launch parties."

"And I love you for it." Ricki smiled, a little more genuine than before, but still pained. "I mean, you gotta live a little, though. Like, when I was your age…wait, no. I can't tell that story. It's wildly inappropriate." Ricki smiled. "Which is sort of my point. Don't you want wildly inappropriate stories you can't share with your children?"

Again, the redhead shrugged. "I'll just tell them what it was like raising you."

Ricki's eyes narrowed and she hunched her right shoulder. "Funny…" She looked at her drink again and sighed, downing the rest of it in one gulp, ignoring the burn slithering down her throat. "It's all the same…_Oh, I'm your biggest fan_…_You're my favorite author_…_Would you please sign my underwear?_" Ricki shook her head. "Just once, I'd like someone to come up to me and say something new."

As if on cue, a voice from behind grabbed Ricki's attention. "Ms. Castle?"

Removing the cap from her pen, and ready with her _Ms. Castle is my mother_ quip, Ricki spun on the balls of her feet. "Where would you like it?"

Facing the source of the voice, her eyes were instantly drawn to a golden shield. Without registering it, her eyes followed to the person holding the shield and…_oh, hello there_. A woman not much shorter than Ricki, brown hair cropped in an adorable style, outfit nearly identical.

And her eyes. Oh, those green eyes…Ricki could already feel herself getting lost in them.

Ricki swallowed, the corners of her mouth threatening to curl into a smile.

"Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD." The other woman, hottie that she was, placed her badge on the holster on her belt and approached. "We need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier tonight."

So struck by Detective Beckett, was Ricki, that she barely noticed Alexis over her shoulder, yanking the Sharpie out of her grasp and whispering in her mother's ear, "That's new."

Ricki swallowed again, finding herself speechless for the first time in a long, long while.


	2. Chapter 2: Shadow

_Interrogation, NYPD 12__th__ Precinct…_

Ricki Castle stared at the drab walls surrounding her, though there wasn't really anything to look at. The interrogation room reminded her a lot of her freshman year dorm, only without the roommate who snored like she was slaughtering a pig. Ricki glanced at herself in the mirror, cocking a sideways grin and tightening her ponytail.

Bags under her eyes aside, Ricki knew she still had it.

Finally, after what had felt like hours, the door cracked open and the detective from the book signing party walked in, burying her face in a manila folder and taking a seat across from Ricki. The author studied the other woman carefully, trying to fight the urge to grind her teeth against her lower lip.

Ricki sat up a little straighter, noting how the detective's shoulders hunched. Detective Beckett was the one chewing on her lower lip, but in thought and concentration, and Ricki was under the impression that she was using silence to her advantage.

Ricki hated that thought. Beckett had said she had questions; this treatment made Ricki wonder if she was actually a suspect.

"There have actually been two murders." Beckett laid the file flat on the table. Ricki stole a glance, fighting the urge to frown when she saw her own mugshot. "Two weeks ago, Marvin Fisk was found murdered in his home." Beckett slid a photo of the body across the table. "We didn't think much of it until we found Ms. Tisdale's body this evening."

Another photo.

Ricki studied them, shaking her head and chewing on her lip. She grabbed the photo of Fisk and studied it through hooded eyes, cocking her head to the side before returning the photo to the detective. "Looks like I have a fan."

Beckett nodded. "A seriously deranged fan."

Ricki flashed a smug, borderline seductive grin. "I wouldn't call you deranged, Detective."

Beckett frowned. "What?"

Ricki leaned forward in her seat, arms resting on the table, hands clasped together. "Come on, Detective…_Flowers For Your Grave_? _Hell Hath No Fury_? Only hardcore Castle groupies know about those books, and quite frankly, if I've got a copycat murderer out there, I'm appalled that they're aping my lesser works."

"So…" Beckett shook her head, folding her arms across her chest and giving Ricki a suspicious, rueful glare. "The fact that we have two bodies is of no consequence to you, yet you're upset that our murderer didn't choose the right books as inspiration."

"Detective." Ricki flashed another grin, this one a little more biting than the last. "Murder happens. Has ever since Cain whacked Abel. Nothing I can do to stop it. There are two kinds of folks who sit around thinking about how to kill people: psychopaths and mystery writers." She shrugged. "I'm the kind that pays better."

Annoyance flashed onto Beckett's face. "Yeah…_about _you…you've got a hell of a rap sheet for a mystery writer." Beckett jabbed her finger at the file. "Drunken disorderlies. Resisting arrest." Beckett leaned forward. "You stole a police horse."

Ricki smirked. "Borrowed."

"You were _naked_ at the time."

A seductive smile crept onto Ricki's face again, and she looked at Detective Beckett through hooded eyes. Their eyes briefly locked, before Detective Beckett flinched and recoiled. "It was spring."

Beckett's mouth flung open, disbelief in her eyes. "And the charges were dropped? _Every_ time?!"

Again, Ricki shrugged. "What can I say? The mayor's a fan. And so are you."

Beckett's eyes narrowed. "I'm reconsidering."

Ricki sat back in her chair, her eyes narrowing again. "I'm getting the feeling there's not a lot of fun in your life. Come on, Detective, don't you ever feel the urge to just…get out there and let loose? Let me guess, you always come to a complete stop at a red light and you never fudge on your taxes." She leaned forward again, whispering. "Do you _ever_ have any fun? Let your hair down, drop your top, little _Cops Gone Wild_?"

Part aghast, part intrigued, Beckett shook her head and forced her mouth closed. "You do know I'm wearing a gun?"

* * *

><p><em>Ricki Castle's loft…<em>

Ricki's monthly poker game with fellow bestsellers James Patterson and Stephen J. Cannell was one of the highlights of her life as an author. Sometimes, another author came and joined in, but more often than not, they were one-and-done – either because they'd lost all of their money, or they found out that all of the rumors about Ricki were true and couldn't hang.

Which was fine. More booze for her.

Her drink went untouched on this night, though, her eyes burning a hole through the cards in her hand. Patterson and Cannell were bantering back and forth, and their words only barely registered.

"Nice crack at the panel, Rick." Cannell smirked and shook his head.

"Just means I'll have to kick your ass extra hard tonight." Patterson shook his head and tossed three blue chips into the center of the table. "Who knows, maybe I'll wipe you out enough that you'll have to bring Derrick Storm back."

Ricki smirked, not once lifting her eyes from her cards.

Cannell threw a couple white chips onto the pile. "I don't know why you killed him off, Rick. Big mistake. Slicing the head off the golden goose…" He shook his head, scratched at his graying goatee. "…I hope you know what you're doing."

Patterson pushed the rest of his chips to the center with a sigh. "Can't be worse than that _Unholy Storm_ crapfest they call a movie."

Ricki's eyes shot up and pushed her pile of chips toward the others. "Alright, just for that, I'm gonna bleed you two dry."

Patterson and Cannell exchanged a glance before Patterson sighed and folded. He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, regarding Ricki with something between suspicion and curiosity. "You alright tonight, Ricki?"

"Yeah." She straightened in her seat, tightening her grip on the cards. "Just…story trouble."

Cannell shrugged. "Bring it. Maybe we can help."

Ricki set down her cards and downed half of the beer bottle that was sitting to her right. "Alright, I'm writing this thing…" She shook her head. "Famous author, has a psycho fan who starts staging murders like those in the books."

Cannell smirked. "A bit self-aggrandizing, don't you think?"

"Please." Ricki shook her head. "This is _me_ we're talking about. So, the crime scenes are clean. No fingerprints, no DNA. Nothing. But the psycho writes the author a letter, fingerprints all over the thing." Ricki paused, shuddering internally. She was glad Black Pawn screened her fan mail, because apparently, there were some freaks out there.

"Which leads the cops to the guy's apartment, where there's plenty of evidence to convict." Ricki had asked to accompany Detective Beckett when they searched the place, but Beckett made it very clear after the interrogation she wanted nothing more to do with the author. As much as Ricki wanted to shadow Detective Beckett a little more, she found her tolerance for the inside of a jail cell waning these days.

Cannell shook his head. "And?"

Ricki swallowed. "That's it."

Patterson visibly blanched. "That's terrible. How is it you've made the _Times_ list?" He was teasing, but Ricki still felt the anger boiling over. "Where's the twist? Where's the character who's convinced it's a set-up? Who's out there vouching for this guy's innocence?"

Realization washed over Ricki, and her eyes flicked to the watch on her left wrist. It was almost 11 at night, but if she knew Detective Beckett like she thought she did, chances were she was still at the precinct. Downing the rest of her beer, Ricki folded her cards and gave Patterson a knowing smile.

"You win this round, Jimmy." She smiled at the aghast look on his face. "But next month, be prepared to write three Alex Cross books a year."

She was out the door before Patterson or Cannell could react.

* * *

><p><em>NYPD's 12<em>_th__ Precinct…_

As soon as the elevator pinged and the doors opened, Ricki Castle burst through and ran through the bullpen, her heels clacking loudly against the wooden floor. Her surroundings were quiet and abandoned, and Ricki cursed herself for her exuberance at this hour.

She stopped and spotted Beckett's desk. Maybe this trip wasn't a waste of time after all, because Ricki smiled when she saw the black leather jacket hung over the back of the chair, the phone resting atop a stack of paperwork.

She hadn't left yet after all.

Ricki turned and noticed a white board, crime scene photos and red permanent marker streawn about the surface. It all fit perfectly, the pieces coming together like one of those jigsaw puzzles Ricki and Alexis used to tackle when the redhead was younger.

But there was a piece missing. Ricki knew it.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?!"

Ricki spun around to take in Detective Beckett holding a steaming mug of coffee, sleeves of her white button-down rolled up to her elbows and a death stare etched onto her face. Ricki smiled anyway, because damn if this woman wasn't all kinds of cute and beautiful and enticing, even when she was angry.

"You arrested the wrong man."

Beckett slammed her mug onto the desk, the liquid threatening to spill. "_Excuse_ me?!"

"It's not the crazed fan." Ricki shook her head, turning her attention back to the white board. She spotted the head shot of Harrison Tisdale, grabbing it and placing it just under the photo of his sister, Allison.

Rolling her eyes, Beckett folded her arms over her chest. "Fine. Humor me."

Ricki cast a seductive smile over her shoulder. "If you insist, _Detective_…" She turned back to the white board. "If Kyle was really as obsessed with my books as we were led to believe, he wouldn't get details wrong. Like, our third victim? Stabbed in the swimming pool? If we're gonna go with _Death of a Prom Queen_, her dress should've been blue, not yellow."

"You're expecting a psychotic to get the details right?"

"If Kyle was _truly_ that obsessed, he would!" Ricki stroked her chin, more for effect than anything, her brown eyes refusing to tear away from Harrison's head shot. "We know about Harrison's financial problems, we know his father's in declining health, and we know that if Allison were out of the picture, Harrison would stand to make all of those money problems go away."

Clearly unswayed, Beckett joined Ricki at the white board. She purposefully kept her gaze on the board, arms still folded across her chest. Ricki let her eyes flick downward, trying to steal a quick glance down Beckett's shirt.

Beckett rolled her eyes again.

"So you're thinking Harrison killed his sister so he would inherit the money." Beckett chewed on her lower lip. "But Fisk was killed two weeks before Allison. And what of the third murder?"

Rickin shrugged. "All to throw us off the scent, make us chase after Kyle instead of him."

It was a plausible theory, but Beckett was never going to actually verbalize as such – at least, not with Ricki standing next to her. "And what proof do you have, Ms. Castle?"

"Who needs proof? It's a great story!"

"_I_ need proof!" Beckett glared at Ricki. "I can't just call up the DA and tell them your story and get the charges filed. I have to _build a case_, Castle." She sighed and shook her head. "Why are you even here?"

Ricki shrugged and cast a questioning glance.

"Clearly, you don't care about the victims." The venom practically dripped from Beckett's words. "You're not an investigator, no matter how much you like to play one, so again…why are you here?"

"For the story."

"Not everything is a story." Beckett rolled her eyes again. "Sometimes a psychopath is just a psychopath."

Ricki smirked and shook her head. "There's _always _a story." She approached Beckett, cocking her head to the side. "Always a chain of events that makes everything make sense. Take you, for example." Ricki's smile broadened. "Girls like you don't become cops. No…smart, good-looking women become doctors, lawyers, actors…even writers." Another smug grin. "And yet here you are. Why?"

Equal parts intrigued and annoyed, Kate shook her head. "You're the writer. You tell me."

"Well…" Ricki bit her lip as she studied the detective, her eyes studying the curve of her jaw, the way her locks curled around the back of her ears. The flash of gold in her green eyes. The way that shirt clung to her curves. Ricki leaned back against the desk, straightening her back, knowing full well it thrust out her chest.

"You're not bridge-and-tunnel. No trace of the boroughs when you talk. Manhattan. You came from money. You went to college, and I'm willing to bet you went to a damn good one. You had options, lots of 'em, and most of them were a lot more socially acceptable than cop. And yet…there's your badge." Ricki approached Beckett, leaning in to whisper. "Something happened. Not to you, someone close. You're wounded, but you're not_ that_ wounded. Something happened to someone you love, and you couldn't live with the fact that whoever's responsible was never caught."

Beckett swallowed the lump in her throat, eyes darting back and forth. She was desperately trying to think of something to say, anything to keep Ricki from learning just how on the mark she really was.

Ricki's eyes softened, and she straightened again. "And that, Detective Beckett, is why you're here."

"Cute trick." Beckett swallowed again before grabbing her jacket and hoisting it over her shoulders, brushing past Ricki without hesitation. Her voice cracked. "But don't think you know me…"

Ricki watched Beckett push past her, the grin on her face disappearing. She saw the detective punch the button to the elevator, Beckett's foot tapping impatiently as she waited. If Ricki didn't know any better, she could've sworn she saw Beckett's shoulders bobbing up and down.

"Good night, Detective," she whispered, suddenly full of regret.


	3. Chapter 3: All Apologies

_Ricki Castle's loft…_

The clock read 2:42 a.m.

Ricki couldn't sleep, choosing instead to spend her night sitting in front of her laptop. A framed letter hung on the wall behind her desk – the first rejection letter she got, freshman year of college when she submitted her first manuscript for publication.

She nursed a beer – her fourth of the night. Two other bottles sat empty on the floor, her poker game with Patterson and Cannell long forgotten. Whatever excitement she had felt on her way to the precinct had given way to a feeling of guilt she hadn't felt in a long time. She's only meant to needle Detective Beckett a little bit, pull on her proverbial pigtails.

She hadn't meant to actually open any old wounds.

Her laptop's screen saver mocked her – _You should be writing_. It had to be her publisher's idea of a joke. As if the phone calls and emails and daily reminders weren't enough. Black Pawn wanted Derrick Storm's replacement, and they wanted it yesterday. Ricki wondered how much longer she could put this off. Part of her even wondered if a drastic career change was in order.

She wagged her finger over the thumbpad to kill the screen saver, downing the rest of her beer. Opening the search engine, her eyes narrowed and her fingers worked over the keyboard.

_Kate Beckett_.

Click.

There weren't many results, save for the occasional newspaper article about an arrest she had made. Shaking her head, chewing on her lip, Ricki removed the first name from the search field, playing on a hunch.

Click.

The first result brought Ricki's heart to a stop.

_Attorney murdered in alley – no arrests made_.

Her stomach dropped as her eyes scanned over the article, dated January 10, 1999. Johanna Beckett, who had worked as a civil rights attorney, was found murdered in an alley in what the newspaper called a random attack. Police had cited gang violence.

Returning to the search field, Ricki paused to squeeze her eyes shut. Why was she so emotional over this? She barely knew Kate Beckett, and it was pretty clear what the detective thought of her. Was this guilt over her earlier behavior?

_Johanna Beckett_.

Click.

A _New York Times_ article from two years after the murder, citing that there were still no leads and no suspects. There wasn't much beyond that, and Ricki felt her heart break. Detective Beckett lost her mother to a senseless murder, and there was no justice for it.

Ricki sank into her chair. She'd been a little too on the nose. Detective Beckett sacrificed whatever her life's dreams were to pursue justice for her mother, for her family. Her demeanor and the way she approached her job made perfect sense now, and the hurt in her eyes after Ricki shot off at the mouth – _again_ – bore into her mind's eye.

She had to see Kate again, if for no other reason than to apologize. Ricki knew Detective Beckett bristled at her presence, but she also knew she had to make this right, and if that apology wound up being the last time they saw each other, then so be it.

Standing, and gathering the empty beer bottles, Ricki crossed her office to throw the bottles away and reach into a large cardboard box tucked into the corner. She pulled out a copy of _Storm Fall_, hardcover, before returning to her desk.

Opening the front cover, Ricki grabbed a pen and started writing.

* * *

><p><em>The next day…<em>

So restless, was Ricki, that she woke up early – after maybe three hours of sleep – and snuck out of the loft to hit her favorite coffee shop. Alexis was of the age now that she could get ready for school on her own, and Ricki knew Alexis would notice her behavior and the bags under her eyes.

Her daughter would ask questions. Questions Ricki didn't feel like answering.

The author sipped at her coffee, staring at the newspaper splayed in front of her on the table, but not really taking in the words. A gift-wrapped box sat in her large purse, and whenever Ricki's mind drifted to what was inside, her heart rate quickened.

She took another sip, trying to focus on the heat of her coffee more than anything else. Why did she feel this way about someone she just met? Someone who, truth be told, couldn't be bothered with her?

Questions Alexis would've asked…Ricki didn't want to answer them then, and she didn't want to answer them now.

She noticed a presence emerge to her side, looking up to find a man in an expensive suit standing in front of her, a leather briefcase in his hand. His hair was white, and he had a rolled-up newspaper tucked under his left arm. He wore a sheepish smile, and Ricki wondered if she had a pen in her purse.

"Hi." She gave her best smile, silently thankful for the distraction.

"Um…hi." The man cringed and scratched at the back of his neck. "Look, miss, I'm sorry to bother you, but it's just…you look kind of familiar."

"You a fan of mystery novels?"

"Not really." The man cringed, taking the seat across from Ricki. "But my wife was." Ricki saw the wistful look in the man's eyes – eyes that were remarkably familiar to her. "I'm Jim."

"Ricki." Her smile faltered ever so slightly.

"Ricki Castle." He huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. "I knew it."

A silence fell over the pair for a few moments, Ricki sipping at her still-steaming mug. Jim cleared his throat and opened his briefcase. Ricki watched him pull something out of the briefcase, her eyes following as he slid it across the table.

It was a photograph. Of Ricki at a book signing, smiling with a fan. Her heart stopped again.

"Johanna loved your books." A sadness crept into Jim's voice, and Ricki swallowed hard, hoping the hurt and the guilt in her eyes weren't evident. She really didn't feel like telling Jim that she'd hurt his daughter's feelings the night before. "Katie does, too."

A tiny smile tugged at Ricki's mouth. _I knew it_…

"I remember reading about her." Ricki nodded once. Neutral. Expressing remorse and sympathy without revealing too much about herself. "I'm sorry."

Jim nodded, grabbing the photograph and placing it back in his briefcase. "You probably don't remember meeting her." Jim shrugged. "All the signings you've done over the years, all the thousands and thousands of fans…"

"I'm sorry." Ricki didn't know what else to say.

"I still have it." Jim smiled briefly. "The book you signed. _To Johanna – keep fighting the good fight_."

Ricki felt tears threatening to build, distracting herself with another sip of her coffee. Fans taking an interest in her work beyond simply enjoying the words was nothing new – and despite her public image, she treasured the fact that she could have that effect – but this one hit home in light of her recent behavior.

"Johanna liked reading your books, knowing there'd always be a just ending. Maybe not a happy ending, but a just one." Jim shook his head. "Katie will never admit it, but I think she found comfort in your books for the same reason."

Ricki nodded and bit her lip, trying to keep the emotion at bay. "I'm glad I could have that effect on someone."

Jim offered another sad smile before standing, grabbing his suitcase, and straightening his tie. "Well, I should get going. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Castle." He extended his right arm.

Ricki shook the hand with a sad smile of her own. "Please, call me Ricki."

Jim shook his head and chuckled as he turned and walked away, and Ricki heard him mutter, "Wait until Katie hears who I met today…" A wave of panic flashed over the author, and she tried to bury it by downing the rest of her coffee.

* * *

><p><em>NYPD's 12<em>_th__ Precinct…_

Before leaving the coffee shop, Ricki discarded the newspaper, but not before noticing that Harrison Tisdale had been arrested in connection with three murders – including that of his sister Allison. Ricki smiled at that, but it lacked the usual self-satisfaction. Normally, she would make sure everyone knew the case had been solved because of her, but she just couldn't bring herself to boast like that.

At least, not until she made things right.

She took methodical steps once she stepped out of the elevator, silently glad that the bullpen was relatively empty save for Detective Beckett and a few uniforms. The captain's office was empty, the light out, and Ricki couldn't help but notice when one of the uniforms pointed in her direction, whispering to another uniform.

Kate was buried in paperwork, the crease of concentration on her forehead. A large black watch was on her left wrist, a ring dangling from a chain around her neck. Ricki stood by the chair to the side of the desk, the box tucked under her arm. Her heart thudded in her chest, and Ricki felt her knees wobbling.

Eventually, Detective Beckett registered the presence at her desk, glancing up before rolling her eyes, setting down her pen, and folding her arms. She leaned back in her chair, shaking her head and glancing at the elevator.

"Come here to gloat, Castle?"

"No." Ricki watched Beckett soften at her tone. "I…I'm here to apologize."

Beckett arched a brow and frowned a little. "For what?" She shrugged. "Other than being self-centered, egotistical, in the way…"

"For my behavior last night." Ricki cut in. "I was…out of line. I shouldn't have pried into your life like that. Whether I was off-base or not, I shouldn't have judged you that way." Ricki stood completely still, not wanting to betray her nerves. "I'm very, very sorry."

Before Beckett could respond, Ricki handed her the box. The detective took it with a quizzical look before setting it in her lap and carefully undoing the wrapping. She opened the box, her expression brightening somewhat when she saw the hardcover of _Storm Fall_.

"Thank you." Beckett tried not to smile, but one spread onto her lips anyway.

"Open the front cover."

With another questioning glare, Beckett did just that.

_Kate,_

_My sincerest apologies for not knowing my place and presuming things about your life. Please accept this as a token of my regret. You are a wonderful cop, and if I ever end up murdered, you're the one I want on my case._

_-Ricki_

"That's…" Beckett's brow furrowed. It seemed like the more often she saw the author, the harder it was to get a read on her. "…sweet."

Ricki extended her right arm, thinking back to the conversation she'd had with Jim earlier that morning. That would remain her little secret. She didn't want to risk ruining the moment, since it appeared Beckett was forgiving her.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Detective Beckett."

Backett shook the author's hand with a nod and a smile, cradling the hardcover against herself. "You too, Ms. Castle."

Ricki smirked and turned to leave the precinct. She pressed the button to the elevator before stuffing her hands in her pockets, chewing on her lip and unable to keep the image of Detective Beckett smiling out of her head. It was easily one of the most gorgeous smiles she had ever seen.

"Ricki."

The author turned on a dime, the look in her eyes entirely too hopeful.

Beckett bit her lip, something Ricki couldn't quite recognize in her eyes. "You wanna get a drink tonight, after I get off work?"

Ricki flashed Detective Beckett her first genuine smile. "Old Haunt, 8:00?"


	4. Chapter 4: Hypnotize

_**Author's Note: From this point forward is where things will start to deviate more from established canon. I appreciate those who are along for the ride so far, and urge everyone to keep reading (despite the fact that, yes, I am a maniac who currently has three on-going multi-chapter Castle fics, on top of a Buffyverse on-going fic, and a novel I'm trying to finish). Reviews are appreciated! Also, for those curious, my headcast for Ricki Castle is none other than Eliza Dushku, so there's that.**_

* * *

><p><em>The Old Haunt…<em>

Ricki's face lit up as soon as she saw Detective Beckett walk into the bar, and she downed her shot glass without breaking her gaze. Kate was wearing the same thing she was wearing at the precinct earlier that day, and though Ricki enjoyed this particular ensemble, she figured she would like anything the cop decided to wear.

Even if it was nothing. _Especially_ if it was nothing.

Ricki cleared her throat when the bartender refilled her shot glass, raising it to Detective Beckett when she joined her at the bar. Pointing at Kate, Ricki flagged down the bartender again. "Whatever she wants. On my tab."

Beckett nodded. "Beer. Whatever's on tap."

With the bartender off to fetch Beckett's drink, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and gave Ricki a sideways glance over her hunched shoulder. This place was quieter than Kate had expected; just the din of conversation to keep them company.

"I see you started without me."

Ricki flashed a toothy grin and shrugged. "Hey, I got a reputation to uphold."

Beckett laughed in spite of herself, shaking her head. "Which one is that? Ricki Castle, the party animal or Ricki Castle, the serial sex fiend?"

Ricki arched her brows. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know, B?" She saw Beckett's face scrunch at the nickname, downing her shot and waving her hand. "Sorry. Beckett." The bartender returned to give Beckett her beer and fill Ricki's glass again, though the writer motioned to the bartender that this would be her last one.

Ricki wanted to drink, but she wanted to make sure she remembered this night.

"Let me ask you something, Detective." Ricki leaned against the bar, silently glad she changed out of her button-down and into a more form-fitting black t-shirt and jeans. It wasn't a look Ricki sported often – only when she was angling for a reaction. "Why'd you ask me out tonight?"

Beckett took a moment to sip at her beer, as if she were buying herself time to answer the question – and judging from the look on her face, that was exactly what she was doing. Ricki smirked to herself when she saw the detective's eyes flick sideways, down then up.

_Detective Beckett, are you checking me out?_

"To say thank you." Kate tried to keep things light, safe. "For your insight on the case. And for apologizing to me."

Ricki raised her glass in a toast, which Beckett reciprocated, before downing her shot with a hiss. "Hey, no big." She shrugged. "I'm just glad to see the right guy go to jail. And my publicist tells me the whole thing will only help book sales."

Beckett shot Ricki a look of disbelief. "You told your _publicist_?!"

"No!" Ricki put her hands up as if she were being held at gunpoint. "Paul read about it in the paper this morning. I swear!"

Beckett smirked, as if she'd pushed the exact button she wanted to, taking a long swig of her beer before twirling the mug in her hands. She cast another sideways glance at the writer, biting her lip.

"So my dad tells me he met you today."

Ricki was suddenly re-thinking the whole not-drinking-anymore-tonight thing. She nodded and sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Yeah, at the coffee shop."

Kate shook her head. "I hope he didn't embarrass me too bad."

"Nope." Ricki leaned in so she could lower her voice. Having to raise it a little over everyone else in the bar was making her throat start to hurt. "He told me about Johanna liking my books. He, uh…" Ricki looked down at the floor. "He showed me a picture she had taken with me at a book signing."

Beckett studied Ricki, noting the subtle shifts in her facial expression. "Is that why you apologized to me?"

Ricki shook her head. "I was gonna do that anyway. I actually had the box with me when he came up to my table." She sucked in a deep breath, reaching up to undo the ponytail and let her brown locks flow out over her shoulders. If Ricki didn't know any better, she could've sworn she heard Beckett gasp.

"Look…I know you're not that fond of me. You think I'm obnoxious, in the way, like a 9-year-old on a sugar rush. And most of the time…yeah, that's me. But…" Her brown eyes flickered downward. "I'm bored, Beckett. That's why _Storm Fall_ is my last Derrick Storm novel. But see, when I hear things like what Jim told me today, about how much my work meant to your mother – to _you_ – that has me wanting to write again." She shrugged. "I just don't know what yet."

Kate nursed her beer, letting Ricki go on her rant. She wanted to curse her father later for admitting to Beckett being a fan, but really, who was she kidding? Ricki had already pegged her as such during the interrogation.

And she was respectful and, frankly, in awe over the way her mother enjoyed her work, so Beckett couldn't really give her too hard a time for it, right?

"This watch is my father's." Beckett pointed at her wrist. "He took mom's death hard – probably harder than I did. He's been sober five years now. So…this is for the life I saved." She pulled at the chain around her neck, placing her thumb in the ring as her voice hitched. "And this is…for the life I lost."

Ricki wanted to reach over and give Detective Beckett a hug, to just squeeze her in her arms for having to shoulder that much burden, that much personal responsibility, over the years. She did, however, reach her hand across to Kate's, cupping it and fighting the urge to smile when the detective didn't pull away the hand.

Instead, Kate stared at Ricki's hand on hers before her eyes flicked up to the author's. It almost looked as if Ricki was hypnotized by Kate. It wasn't really anything new – Ricki had stolen glances or stared every chance she got, but there was something different about this gaze. It felt more genuine.

"So what about you, Castle?" Kate sucked in a deep breath to steel herself. "What skeletons do you have in _your_ closet?"

"You mean aside from two ex-husbands, one of whom just happens to also be my publisher?" There was that urge to start drinking again. "I don't have a father." She admitted, struggling to hold Detective Beckett's gaze, even as her hand was still clasped over Kate's. "Well, I _do_ – obviously – but I've never met him."

Beckett chewed on her lip. "I'm sorry…"

Ricki shrugged. "It's not so bad. Mother raised me fine, considering. And I've got Alexis."

Beckett cocked her head to the side. "Alexis…?"

"When you came to my book party the other night." Ricki reluctantly removed her hand from Beckett's, not wanting to seem overly anxious to touch her – even though she was. "The redhead sitting with me? That's my daughter."

"I didn't know you had any children."

"And here I thought you were a fan." Ricki teased before shaking her head. "She's from my first marriage. I had her while I was in college, actually, not that long after my first book got published." Another shrug. "Martin and I split when she was four, and it's been pretty much just me and her ever since."

"And where's Martin been?"

Ricki shook her head and stared at her fingers. Truth be told, she didn't miss him, but the fact that he was never around for her daughter was always a bit of a sore spot. Alexis didn't seem to mind – or if she did, she never said anything.

"L.A. Paris. Wherever the next gig is." Ricki glanced at the detective, surprised to find empathy in her eyes. "One time, Martin showed up out of the blue when Alexis was nine, wanted to pull her out of school and just…take her to Paris."

"What happened?"

"I told him no and kicked him out of my life. I wasn't about to let him just take my daughter and get her hopes up like that." She waved at the bartender, deciding she wanted another drink after all. "No parent's better than a bad parent."

"I'm sorry." This time, Beckett's hand rested on top of Ricki's, and before she could even think about it, she turned her hand over so their fingers interlocked. Their eyes met, and a hopeful smile crept onto Ricki's face.

"You're not wrong." Beckett stared at their interlocked hands. "About how I wasn't fond of you. Not at first. I mean…" She shook her head, slowly pulling her hand away, careful not to let Ricki think she was eager to break the contact.

"My first impression of you – as a person – wasn't very good." Beckett's eyes locked with Ricki's. "You were flippant about the victims and you spent half the interrogation prodding at me and flirting."

Ricki nodded. "And then my stunt last night…"

"I know you didn't mean anything by it." Beckett shrugged. "You were just being…_you_, I guess. But it did sting, and I appreciate that you apologized for it. Maybe you're not as bad as I thought."

A playful smile cracked onto Ricki's face. "Or maybe I am and I just hide it well."

Beckett huffed a laugh, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" She downed the rest of her beer with a sideways grin.

Emboldened – by either the alcohol or something else she couldn't quite place – Ricki sat up a little straighter with one of her knowing, smug grins, the kind that screamed _Yeah, I'm hot shit, and don't I know it._ "Not when I'm around you, Detective."

Beckett laughed, which was so not the reaction Ricki expected. She was half-expecting to be shot down or admonished, but she made Beckett laugh. It wasn't one of those _I can't believe this girl_ laughs with a head shake and an eyeroll; it was a genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh, and Ricki was struck by how Beckett's face lit up when she smiled.

Ricki chewed on her lip, thinking she would have to make Kate Beckett smile as often as possible from this point forward.

Beckett finished her beer, flashing Ricki another smile as she stood. "I'd love to stay and continue this little chat…" She threw a glance the writer's way that screamed _Believe me, I would love to_. "…but I'm on call in the morning, and I don't want a body dropping while I'm nursing a hangover."

Ricki swallowed the disappointment and nodded. "Of course, Detective."

Beckett leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Ricki's cheek, and the author felt like her stomach was doing back flips. She watched as Beckett straightened again, averting her gaze with a tiny grin on her face, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear again.

"Call me sometime, Castle."

Ricki was again left speechless – twice in as many days – watching with mouth agape as Beckett slipped through the crowd and walked out the door. The bartender arrived with the check, smirking at the look on Ricki's face.

"I take it she's good company?"

Ricki shook her head and grinned. "Extraordinary…"

* * *

><p><em>Ricki Castle's loft…<em>

Ricki was glad she hadn't drank any more than she did, because her head was clear enough – even at three in the morning – that she found herself writing for the first time in months. Light from her laptop bathed her face, piercing the pitch black that was otherwise her office. Her fingers tapped rapidly against the keys, biting her lip in concentration.

So engrossed in this new story, was Ricki, that she didn't notice when the door to her office opened. If it were possible, her fingers went even faster over the keyboard, the words flowing with ease.

She hadn't felt like this in a long, long while. Writing was easy again. Fun.

Martha leaned against the doorway, watching her daughter with a bemused smirk. She was thankful for the dark hiding the bags under her eyes. Not wanting to disturb Ricki, Martha waited for a break.

Finally, she got one.

"Now there's a sight for sore eyes." Martha grinned and pushed herself off the doorway. "What happened, kiddo? Another threat from George."

"No, mother." Ricki sat back with a shit-eating grin on her face, leaning back in her chair and clasping her hands together on the back of her head. "I've been…inspired."

The writer frowned, glancing at the clock. "What are you doing here so late?"

Martha waved dismissively. "The after party ran long. It was easier to just come here to crash for the night than go home." The redhead crossed to the back of Ricki's desk, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder and glancing at the laptop.

"Soooo…do we have a replacement for Derrick Storm?"

"I hope so." Ricki lowered her arms and smiled up at Martha. "Mother, remember the case the police were working on? The murders that looked like my books?"

Martha blanched and nodded.

"Well…" A knowing smile played across the writer's face. "One of the detectives working the case, Detective Beckett, she…made quite the impression on me."

Martha arched her brows and placed a hand on her hip. "An impression."

Ignoring the inquisitive glare being sent her way, and the knowing tone with which Martha repeated her words, Ricki resumed writing, a sideways grin splayed across her face as word after word poured out onto the screen. She punched the period key as her grin broke out into a smile before scrolling up to the top of the page, turning the monitor to Martha.

"Mother…" Ricki stood and beamed with pride. "Say hello to Detective Nikki Heat."


	5. Chapter 5: In-Sync

Ricki Castle had a bounce in her step she hadn't had in a long while – so long, in fact, she couldn't remember the last time she felt this way. The phone call from Detective Beckett the night before had been a pleasant surprise – she hadn't even had a chance yet to work up the courage to honor Beckett's request to call _her_ yet.

And since when did Ricki have to work up the courage to call someone?

The elevator dinged, and Ricki stepped out into the bullpen at the 12th, nodding toward a cluster of uniforms huddled in the corner. One of them cast a confused glance her way, but Ricki just moseyed over in the direction of Beckett's desk, two cups of coffee in-hand.

"Good morning, Detective." Inwardly, Ricki cringed as soon as she said it, hating how cheery she sounded. Kate Beckett didn't seem to notice, though, giving the writer a polite smile and casting a glance at a couple empty desks across from her.

"Castle." Kate furrowed her brow at the coffee cup being handed to her, taking a sip before her eyes widened. "This—"

"Grande skim latte, two pumps sugar free vanilla." Ricki shrugged with a smile.

"But how did you—"

"I'm a writer." Ricki took the seat next to Beckett's desk. "It's my job to notice things."

Beckett smiled with another sip, shaking her head. Ricki must've noticed when they made a coffee run during the Tisdale case. The writer continued to surprise Beckett; just when she thought she had Ricki Castle figured out, things got switched up a little.

"Thanks for coming."

Ricki shrugged, trying her best to act nonchalant. "Hey, it was either this or stare at my laptop for hours on end. I can only watch that cursor blink so many times before I feel like it's starting to mock me."

That wasn't entirely true; in point of fact, she was already a quarter of the way through her new manuscript, a book tentatively called _Heat Wave_. She thought about telling Beckett – Nikki Heat was, after all, based on her – but it was fun keeping the secret for now. Besides, Beckett wanted help on a case, and if Ricki could add any insight, then…

Beckett stood, coffee in-hand as she directed Ricki to the murder board. "Our victim is a man named Douglass Bishop, found dead in the apartment of the Dyson family two days ago. Bishop was arrested once 10 years ago for drunk and disorderly, but other than that, he's clean."

Ricki sipped on her coffee. "Any connection to the Dyson family?"

"Nope. Never met 'em." Beckett shook her head. "The Dysons came home from vacation and found Bishop face-first in their daughter's bed."

Ricki blanched. "I bet she never wants to hear about Goldilocks ever again. Was Bishop a squatter?"

"That's what we thought at first." Beckett glanced to her right just in time to see Detectives Ryan and Esposito join the proceedings. Beckett tried to suppress a smirk when she saw Ryan's eyes light up upon seeing Ricki, and Esposito frowned in confusion.

"Ricki, meet Detectives Kevin Ryan and Javier Esposito." Beckett tried to keep her smile light, but she felt it tugging more on her features than she would like. "Guys, this is Ricki Castle."

Ryan grinned and shook Ricki's hand, while Esposito kept his suspicious glare.

"Nice to meet you." Ryan was surprisingly calm, given the look of wonder on his face. "I loved _Storm Fall_."

Esposito rolled his eyes.

Choosing to ignore the civilian, Esposito handed a manila folder to Beckett. "Mickey Carlson's alibi checks out."

Beckett frowned. "Anything on the third man?"

Esposito shook his head, watching as Ricki studied the murder board. He tapped Beckett on the shoulder, scrunching his face into a frown as he threw his thumb at the writer's direction, mouthing, _What is she doing here?_

Beckett rolled her eyes in response, tossing the folder on her desk and joining Ricki by the board. Both women cradled their right arm over their stomachs, each chewing on their left thumb. Their heads cocked to the side in unison.

Ricki pointed at one of the photographs in the upper right corner of the board. "This isn't the Dysons' place, is it?"

Beckett shook her head. "The Maitlans lived there. Mickey squatted there before."

Ricki cocked her head to the side again. "And this dumbwaiter in the corner. Where does that lead?"

Ryan joined the pair in front of the board. "There's an exotic pet store on the first floor of that building. That dumbwaiter leads just behind the store."

"There's also a bank next to the pet store." Esposito intervened. "We were thinking this was a bank heist gone wrong, and that the third man might've had something to do with Bishop's death."

Ricki frowned. "Bishop and Mickey were trying to rob a bank?"

Beckett shook her head. "Why would they need mountain climbing gear to rob a bank?" She nodded toward the murder board. "I don't see them fitting any money in the dumbwaiter, either."

Ryan shook his head. "Or ketamine, for that matter."

"But Mickey wasn't part of whatever went down." Esposito grabbed a mugshot Ricki hadn't yet seen, attaching it to the murder board. "He was at a homeless shelter the night of the murder. But Bishop was with this man, a guy named Anton Francis with a rap sheet as long as Beckett's legs."

Both Beckett and Ricki shot Esposito an angry glare, and the detective sank within himself.

"Anton the third man?"

Beckett shook her head. "Nope, just the second."

"But Mickey—"

"Alibi'd out."

"What I don't get…" Ricki folded her arms over her chest. "What's the ketamine for?"

The trio hadn't noticed Ryan leaving to answer his phone, but the detective hung up the receiver and joined them again at the murder board. "I may have an answer for that. Remember when the pet store owner said there was no break-in, even though the dumbwaiter had been opened?"

Beckett and Esposito nodded.

"What if the pet store was a front for something else?"

That got Beckett and Ricki's attention, and they both turned to look at Ryan.

"Noel du Preez, the owner, he's clean." Ryan read off his notepad. "But a few days ago, customs recorded him picking up a half-dozen African Gray Parrots, four baboon spiders, and two black-tailed pythons…all from South Africa."

Ricki frowned. "Black-tailed pythons? From South Africa?"

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, why?"

Ricki glanced at Beckett. "Black-tailed pythons, also known as Indian rock pythons, are not indigenous there. Why would they be coming from Africa?"

Esposito shook his head. "Why are we talking about some motherfucking snakes on a motherfucking plane?"

Ricki couldn't suppress her grin, her attention solely focused on Beckett as she approached the murder board again. It was almost as if Ryan and Esposito weren't even there. "I'm paid to think like a bad guy." Ricki stabbed her finger against one of the photos on the murder board. "A few fun facts about snakes: they're cold-blooded, they can swallow huge amounts, and they digest what they eat very slowly."

Beckett immediately picked up on the implication. "Perfect for smuggling!"

"It's happened before." Ricki turned to Beckett, stepping toward her. "If they came from South Africa…well, there are two things in abundance in South Africa: racial hatred and diamonds."

Esposito smirked and shook his head. "Smuggling diamonds in live snakes…"

Beckett grinned. "Mickey's attacker said there were millions at stake—"

"And the dumbwaiter leads to the pet store. That's why the Maitlans' trip _had_ to be this week. They knew the shipment was coming in. And then the ketamine—"

"Was to dope the snakes, so they could take them up the shaft without a fight. And then when we came to the store—"

"The owner couldn't say a word, otherwise he'd implicate himself in smuggling."

Beckett grabbed Ricki by the arms. "So, we find out who robbed him—"

"We find the third man!"

Feeling the adrenaline rush she always felt when she got a big break in a case, Beckett squeezed Ricki's arms and planted a quick kiss on her lips. Ignoring the quizzical glances from Ryan and Esposito, she turned to the duo. "Have uniforms pick up du Preez, bring him in."

Ricki was left speechless yet again, everything around her a blur. She had Kate Beckett on her lips, and it was the most intoxicating feeling in the world. No booze in the world could give her the buzz she had at the moment, and when she met the detective's gaze again, they both blushed.

"So, uh…" Beckett swallowed. "Thanks."

"Oh, you know…" Ricki was trying to be smug, but she felt far too flustered. "It's a gift."

"Maybe I should call you to help on cases more often."

"I'd like that." Ricki brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Or you could just call me whenever. Don't even need a reason."

Beckett smiled at that – a bright, true, toothy smile that sent the butterflies in Ricki's stomach all aflutter. The writer couldn't believe what she was feeling – partly because it had been so long since anyone made her feel this way, and partly because of the sheer randomness of how Detective Beckett wound up in her life.

As heinous as the murders staged after her books were, Ricki was strangely thankful for them, because without them, she wouldn't be standing in the precinct right now, sharing a moment with a woman with whom she was clearly infatuated.

Even better, Beckett seemed to have softened a bit in recent days. Ricki still wasn't sure what it meant, but she had her suspicions – after all, she could still taste the detective on her lips.

"Hey." Beckett grabbed her badge and her gun. "After we solve the case, what say you and I grab a bite. My treat. Ever been to Remy's?"

Ricki's face lit up. "Oh, those burgers…"

Beckett's face lit up as well, before her eyes rolled back in what Ricki read as mild seduction. "And those shakes…"

"Detective Beckett, I would be glad to have dinner with you."

"Great." Beckett turned with her notepad, heading for the interrogation room, but she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. "You wanna come watch the interrogation, Castle?"

It just so happened Ricki was about to write her first interrogation scene, so if nothing else, she could use the session to get material for the upcoming scene. But more than anything, she just wanted to watch Beckett in her element.

She would take any excuse to be around Kate Beckett she could get.


	6. Chapter 6: Egg Shells

_The break room…_

Watching Kate Beckett in the interrogation room was more thrilling than anything Ricki Castle had seen in the theater over the past couple years. Her 20-minute questioning of the exotic pet store owner filled the rest of Ricki's notepad, notes and observations that were definitely making their way into _Heat Wave_.

She poured herself a mug of coffee, taking a sip before scrunching her face in disgust and shaking her head. It tasted like a monkey had peed in battery acid, but it was caffeine, and even with the jolt she got whenever she was around the detective, Ricki needed the boost. She'd been so busy writing her new character that she hadn't gotten much sleep the past couple days.

Ricki kept sipping at her coffee, trying not to cringe, watching Beckett return to her desk. If the author was being entirely truthful, she was a little scared. She wasn't used to someone getting under her skin this way so soon. It wasn't even just the fact that Kate Beckett was physically attractive; if that was all it was, Ricki would've gone after her conquest and probably had another notch on her bed post by now.

No, this was different. This went deeper. Far deeper.

And it was simultaneously frightening and exhilarating.

The door to the break room opened, and Ricki watched as Detective Esposito walked in to pour himself a cup of coffee. His red tie hung loose around his neck, and he cast a sideways glance at Ricki before taking his first sip.

Clutching his mug in both hands, Esposito turned to face Ricki head-on, and she saw his shoulders expand when he sucked in a deep breath. She couldn't read the expression on his face, but she saw the suspicion in his eyes as he sat across from her.

"Ricki Castle." His eyes flickered down, then back up. "How nice of you to swoop in and save the day on _our_ case."

Ricki squinted. Overprotective brother figure? Jilted lover? Both were plausible. Still, much as she didn't appreciate Detective Esposito giving her the stink eye without prior provocation, she decided to play nice – for now.

"Beckett called and asked me to come." The writer shrugged. "I was happy to do her a favor."

The detective's eyebrows shot up. "Was that kiss a favor too?"

Ricki smiled and chewed on her lower lip. It must've been a good half hour to 45 minutes since Detective Beckett swiftly pressed her lips against Castle's, and she swore she could still taste her. A shiver ran through the writer and her eyes fluttered closed.

Esposito cleared his throat, staring at Ricki.

She couldn't help but smirk, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "This the part where you tell me you're watching me? Where if I do anything to hurt Detective Beckett, you'll go all Special Forces on me?"

"I know your reputation." Esposito took another sip of coffee. "I read Page Six."

"Yes, let's believe everything that rag prints."

Deciding she'd lost her taste for the awful coffee, Ricki stood and poured the rest of her mug down the drain. She stretched and walked past Esposito, stopping to lean in and whisper in his ear. "Kate's a big girl, Javier. And I don't think she'd care much for you playing big brother behind her back."

Leaving the break room, Ricki's expression instantly brightened when her eyes met Beckett's. Kate stood when Ricki got to the desk, already extending her arm for a handshake. Ricki took that handshake, letting her thumb run along Beckett's hand before she leaned in for a kiss on the cheek.

She wanted more, but this would do for now.

"So…" Ricki smiled. "I'll see you tonight?"

Beckett smiled and stared at the floor, twirling a strand of hair. "Can't wait."

"Neither can I." Ricki leaned in again, tossing a thumb over her shoulder. "In the meantime, try to keep your dog on his leash, hm?"

Beckett frowned in confusion as Ricki walked to the elevator, before understanding – and annoyance – washed over her features when she saw Esposito standing in the doorway to the break room, arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey, Espo." She could barely keep the anger out of her voice. "Don't you have paperwork to file?"

"Nah, that's Ryan."

"Not anymore, it's not." She thrust a stuffed manila folder against his chest. "Consider this your warning. Back off of Castle."

* * *

><p><em>Ricki Castle's loft…<em>

Ricki's already-good mood brightened even more when she walked into her loft and found Martha and Alexis huddled together at the island in the kitchen, laughing over something as they ate off of a plate of sliced fruit.

The writer tossed her coat over the rail of the staircase, joining mother and daughter before popping a strawberry into her mouth. "I didn't do it."

"Ah, Rebecca!"

"That's not my name, mother…"

"I don't care what some form downtown says." Martha waved her hands in an overly dramatic fashion. It really felt sometimes like she lived her entire life as if she were on stage. "I gave you that name, so that's what you'll always be."

Alexis gave her mother one of those smiles that crinkled the edges of her eyes, leaning forward on the surface of the island. "How was seeing Detective Beckett?"

Both Martha and Alexis gave Ricki a knowing look.

Ricki popped another strawberry in her mouth, sighing and glancing at the ceiling for effect. "It was…nice."

Martha looked dumbfounded. "Nice?" She shook her head. "Rebecca, you have been on the _New York Times_ bestseller list 21 times now. Surely you can come up with something better than nice."

Alexis cocked her head to the side. "Someone's smitten…"

Ricki arched her brows, leaning toward her daughter. "You're not even in high school yet, pumpkin. What would you know about being smitten?"

"I can see it on your face." Alexis beamed.

"Alright, you got me." Ricki feigned surrender, moving to grab a handful of white grapes. "I don't know what it is, but Kate…"

Martha laughed. "Oh, lord, you used her first name." She nudged Alexis' elbow. "This _is_ serious."

"First name _and_ a book character?" Alexis giggled. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear my mother had a crush."

"Rebecca, darling, have you told her about Nikki Heat?"

Ricki shook her head, snatching a watermelon cube and devouring it before crossing to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "Nope. Part of me wants to wait until the book is published, so I can surprise her."

Alexis cringed. "Bad idea, mom."

Ricki frowned. "Why?"

"Rebecca…" Martha placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "This really is the sort of thing you should clear with her before the book goes to print. Hell, you should've cleared it with her before you even started writing, but you never have been one to take the easy road."

"Mother—"

"To say nothing of the fact that life is probably hard enough for her at the precinct. A beautiful woman like her in a male-dominated profession…she probably has to deal with a lot of brutish, disgusting behavior, and I'm afraid Nikki Heat would give the brutes more ammunition."

Ricki chewed on Martha's words as much as she chewed on the cantaloupe in her mouth. Her mother was right. Ricki hadn't really thought of it that way. She gave Martha a smile and a nod, popping another grape into her mouth.

"I'll tell her tonight." Ricki shrugged. "If she doesn't want me to do it, I'll write something else. I'm inspired now; I'm sure I'll think of something."

Alexis arched her brows. "Tonight?"

"We're going out to dinner." Ricki beamed. Not even her confrontation with Detective Esposito could ruin the day for her because come that evening, she'd be sharing burgers and shakes with the NYPD's prettiest detective.

"Mom's got a date!" Alexis brightened, then instantly frowned. "Shouldn't we be getting excited over the prospect of _me_ dating by this point?"

"If by excited, you mean frightened, then yes." Ricki kissed the top of Alexis' head.

* * *

><p><em>Remy's…<em>

Ricki was already seated, and she had taken particular care with her appearance – more so than usual. She wore a black button-down with a royal blue tie, the knot resting under head neck large. A small blazer matched the shirt, and Ricki sported a pair of dark skinny jeans tucked into her favorite pair of black knee-high boots.

She wore her hair down, the brown locks splayed out over her shoulders.

Ricki felt her heart skip a beat with Detective Beckett came into view, wearing the same outfit she'd had on earlier in the day at the precinct. Her hair was flared out at the sides, and Ricki couldn't keep the smile off of her face. Even when she was coming straight from the precinct, Kate was stunning.

Kate grinned and glanced at the sidewalk before approaching the table. "I suddenly feel underdressed."

Ricki was tempted to make a snide remark, but bit her tongue. As excited as she was to see Kate – especially to see her outside of the precinct, Ricki was still walking on proverbial egg shells. She really didn't want to screw this up, so she did the one thing that was most against her nature: she kept her mouth shut.

"I think you look lovely, Detective."

Kate gave an embarrassed smile before taking a seat across from Ricki, eventually lifting her eyes and smiling more broadly when she saw the look in the writer's blue orbs. They took the time to place their orders, both having memorized the menu to the point they didn't even need to look at it.

With the food ordered, Kate sighed. "Hey, listen, Castle…I'm sorry about Javi."

"Hey, it's no big." Ricki shrugged. "I'm a civilian and he obviously cares about you."

Kate frowned. "Oh, but he and I aren't—"

"I know." Ricki gave a reassuring smile. "He means well."

A devilish smile played across Beckett's face. "He's also staying late doing paperwork."

Ricki's smile broadened. "Well played, Detective."

"So du Preez talked." A smile of accomplishment crept onto Beckett's face, and briefly, Ricki found herself wishing she could see Beckett look that way about her mother's case. She shook off that thought, though, not wanting the evening to be soured. "Told us everything he knew, and we made the arrest."

Their milkshakes were ready by this point, and Ricki raised hers in a toast, a broad smile on her face. She was smiling so much around Beckett that her cheeks were starting to hurt, but she couldn't help herself.

"Listen, Beckett…" Ricki cleared her throat. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh, no." Beckett cringed. "Ryan didn't embarrass himself in front of you, did he?"

Ricki laughed. "No. It's…" She sighed. Why did words escape her when she needed them most? The butterflies were violently fluttering in her stomach. She could feel the sweat in her palms. "I've started working on a new book."

Beckett visibly brightened. "That's great, Castle. A replacement for Storm?"

"I hope so."

"Well…" Beckett leaned forward on her elbows, grinning and ignoring the food as it was placed on the table between the pair. She didn't ignore it for long, though, stealing a French fry from Ricki's tray. "Tell me."

"It's a character I'm basing on you, actually." No sense in beating around the bush – and though Beckett looked confused, it was better than the reaction Ricki feared she might get. Sitting up, she felt emboldened. "A smart, savvy, good-looking detective."

Beckett tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lip. A smile played at her lips, and she was trying to hide it – and not succeeding.

"That's…actually sort of flattering, Castle. What's her name?"

"Nikki Heat."

The smile disappeared. "Castle."

"Think about the title possibilities. _Heat Wave. Deadly Heat. Rising Heat_…"

"Castle." Beckett shook her head. "Is this a mystery novel or a late-night Cinemax feature?"

_Still better than _Unholy Storm…

"You don't like it." Ricki swallowed, tugging on the straw in her strawberry milkshake. It looked like she would have to go back to the proverbial drawing board, come with something else to write. She had vague outlines of ideas, but nothing spoke to her like Detective Beck—Nikki Heat did.

Beckett broke into a large smile, shaking her head and giggling. "I'm just busting you balls, Castle. Go on, keep writing it. I only have one request."

Ricki's eyebrows arched.

"I get to read it before it goes to print."

Ricki grinned through the first bite of her burger. "Done." She'd have to pull some strings – and likely piss off George in the process – but considering how icy things were between them already, Ricki didn't really care about ruffling his feathers.

Hell, if anything, she kind of enjoyed it.

"You're not worried about the male officers harassing you?"

Beckett shrugged. "Been dealing with that since I was in the Academy. Besides…" She bit into her burger. "Esposito served three tours in Iraq. If I can handle _him_, then I don't think anyone else at the 12th is gonna be that much of a problem."

The pair ate the rest of their food in comfortable silence, stealing the occasional glance. Ricki paid the bill and they got to-go cups for what was left of their shakes, and Ricki left a sizeable tip before they wandered down the sidewalk, their hands teasingly close as they alternated sips of their milkshakes.

"Castle." Beckett stopped. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Have you ever been with a woman?"

_Several_. Ricki didn't say that, though, because she knew how that would sound. It was true, but she didn't want to give Beckett the same skeevy, perverted vibe she got when they first met days before. So the author nodded and twirled the straw in her shake. "Yeah." She gave Beckett a tentative smile. "I'm bisexual."

Beckett nodded in understanding and Ricki felt a wave of disappointment wash over her. The pair started walking again, and Ricki chewed on her lower lip, unsure of how to ask the question she desperately wanted answered.

"I'm guessing this is the part where you tell me you're straight…?"

A knowing smile played across Beckett's lips. "I kissed you earlier today, didn't I?" Having finished her milkshake, Beckett disposed of the cup. "I've been straight for most of my life, yeah. But…" She shook her head. "I'm not even sure how to explain it."

Ricki stopped and snaked her fingers into Beckett's, giving her hand a squeeze. "Maybe you don't have to." She shrugged. "Maybe we're not supposed to always have all the answers. Maybe we're just supposed to live with the questions and…find our way."

Beckett smiled at that. "I do know one thing." She cocked her head to the side. "I like you."

Ricki smiled in return. "I like you, too, Detective Beckett."

Beckett stepped in front of Ricki, trailing her fingers along the author's jaw. Something flashed in her eyes, hints of gold mixing with the green. Beckett then leaned in, pressing her lips against Ricki's, taking her time now, letting the contact linger for several seconds as Ricki's hand roamed up to Beckett's shoulders.

Ricki heard herself whimper when their lips finally parted.

"Call me Kate."


	7. Chapter 7: Next Level

_**Author's Note: Wow...no love for Chapter 6? Damn, I thought that would be a popular one. Ah well...sooner or later this fic's gotta take off, right?**_

* * *

><p><em>Captain Montgomery's office…<em>

Roy Montgomery liked to give his detectives leeway in the field. Not that he wasn't a stickler for rules and regulations – as a former detective himself – but he understood that sometimes, the work dictated an outside approach. Something not taught at the Academy.

But this? He wasn't quite sure how he felt about this.

He watched as Detective Beckett walked into his office, a woman roughly her height with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail joining her. He instantly recognized the other woman and couldn't help but smirk, sitting up in his chair and straightening his tie.

"Detective."

"Sir." Beckett stopped in front of his desk, glancing sideways. "Ricki, this is our captain, Roy Montgomery. Captain, this is—"

"I know who you are, Ms. Castle." Montgomery stood to shake Ricki's hand – did he see Detective Beckett blush? "Thanks to Evelyn, we have an entire row on our bookshelf that's nothing but your books."

Ricki smiled and ducked her head, shaking the captain's hand. "Thank you, sir. And please, call me Ricki. Ms. Castle is my mother."

Montgomery smirked and returned to his seat. "Forgive me for my ignorance, Detective, but I'm not really sure what you were asking me before. Care to run it by me again?"

Beckett and Ricki exchanged a glance before the author took a seat in the sofa across from Montgomery's desk. Beckett began pacing back and forth, which Ricki figured she only did when she was nervous.

"Sir…" She shook her head. "Ricki wants to start shadowing me, act as an unofficial consultant to the NYPD."

"I see." Montgomery cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

"Book research." Which was actually true. Partially. "I'm starting a new series of novels featuring a homicide detective, and I want to make sure they're as authentic as possible."

Montgomery's eyebrows arched. "And you want to follow Detective Beckett."

Ricki nodded.

"And what do you think, Detective?"

"I think…" Beckett paused, casting a sideways glance at Ricki and trying to fight back the smile threatening the corners of her mouth. "I think Ricki could be a valuable asset. She's helped out in two of our cases so far, and both times, her input helped lead us to the killer."

"The Tisdale and Bishop cases." Montgomery folded his arms across his chest. "The mayor has already signed off on the idea – I guess it pays to have friends in high places. But I need you both to understand the gravity of this. Castle, you're a civilian. You have no formal police training. Hell, for all I know, you've never fired a gun."

Ricki and Beckett exchanged another glance, and the author sucked in a deep breath to steel herself for the "no" she had been expecting since hatching the idea the night before. She had hoped for a yes, but Ricki would've been lying if she said she had expected one.

"I don't give a damn what the mayor says." Ricki flinched when Montgomery spoke. "But…the fact that Detective Beckett vouches for you means something." He smiled and rose from his chair, crossing to the front of the desk and unbuttoning his blazer. "Ricki, you may not know it yet, but you're actually in the presence of my greatest detective. Hard-working. Tenacious. If you're gonna follow anyone in this building, I can't think of anyone better."

Beckett's ears burned and her cheeks turned red. "Thank you, sir."

"I will agree to this arrangement on two conditions." Montgomery straightened. "One, you stay out of the way and do whatever Detective Beckett or anyone else tells you at all times. I can't have a civilian being killed in the line of duty."

Ricki nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Two." Montgomery couldn't hide his smile, even if he tried. "Evelyn's birthday is coming up, and I think a personally-signed copy of _Storm Fall_ would make a great gift."

Ricki smiled and nodded again. "I think I can handle that."

* * *

><p><em>The desks of Detectives Ryan and Esposito…<em>

Detective Esposito stared through the blinds at the meeting going on in Captain Montgomery's office, shaking his head with a sneer. His badge hung around his neck for everyone in the precinct to see; whereas the other cops either wore it on their hip or were more conspicuous about it, Esposito made sure everyone knew he was a cop.

"I don't like this, bro."

Detective Ryan barely glanced up from the paperwork he was filling out, frowning at his partner. "Yeah, you've made that pretty clear, Javi."

"Come on, man. A civilian? Playing cop cause she's got some crush?!" He shook his head and his nostrils flared. "I got better things to do than babysit some writer while we're on a stakeout or handling a hostage situation."

Ryan dropped his pen. "Dude, what is your problem?"

"Oh, I forgot, I'm dealing with her second biggest fan in this building." Esposito scoffed. "What would Jenny think, seeing you ogling Ricki like that?"

Ryan shrugged. "She'd be right there with me. She loves those books probably more than I do."

Esposito shook his head. "We're around death every single day. Last thing I wanna do is go home and read about more of it."

"So that's why you've got this vendetta against Castle?"

Esposito blinked, taken aback. "…No."

Ryan leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Then what is it, Javi? You playing the overprotective big brother? Or is this about feelings you never properly dealt with?"

"This has nothing to do with that!"

Ryan's eyebrows arched. "Awful defensive there, Detective."

Esposito shrugged and shook his head, staring through the blinds again. "I know what she's like. I just don't wanna see Beckett get hurt."

"Javi…" Ryan sighed. "Of everyone in this precinct, who do you think can handle herself better than anyone else?" He glanced into the captain's office, leaning in and lowering his voice. "Look, I'm not thrilled about a civilian tagging along, either. But we've solved two cases because of Castle, and if Montgomery gives the okay, then there's nothing we can do about it."

* * *

><p><em>The Old Haunt…<em>

"I gotta say…" Ricki smiled as their beer bottles clinked together. "I didn't expect Montgomery to say yes."

"Are you kidding me?" Beckett smirked, taking a swig. "You should've felt how sweaty my palms were. I thought he was gonna read us both the riot act."

"Listen…" Ricki reached across the table to run her fingers along the palm of Beckett's hand, only to beam when the detective grabbed her hand and their fingers interlocked. "Thanks for letting me do this. I would've completely understood if you said no."

"Well…" A teasing grin etched onto Beckett's face. "If you're gonna be basing a character on me, I want you to get it right."

The pair laughed and squeezed each other's hands as Ricki finished her beer. She pushed the bottle to the side, taking in the sight of the detective sitting across from her. Even in the dimly-lit bar, she could make out the hints of gold in her eyes, and Ricki still could not get over the way her hair flared out at the ends.

It was adorable.

"Just…promise me something." Beckett's face turned serious, and she tightened her grip on Ricki's hand. "Don't go off trying to be a hero. You stick behind me, you do as you're told, and you stay safe, alright?"

"Of course." Ricki squeezed Beckett's hand. "I promise."

"Good. Cause I really don't feel like having to break that news to your mother or daughter." Beckett sighed. "It's one thing if it happens to me, and they have to tell my dad."

"Nothing's gonna happen, Kate. I'll be fine."

"Speaking of…" Beckett's lips curled into a smile again, and she ducked her head the way she always did when she felt her cheeks going flush. Ricki smiled, thinking it was another thing she could add to her _Things About Kate That Are Adorable_ list. "When do I get to meet Martha and Alexis?"

Ricki coughed as she took a sip, and Beckett laughed. The writer took a few moments to compose herself, dabbing a napkin over her lips to make sure she wasn't wearing her own beer. "You, uh…you wanna meet my family already?"

"It's only fair, Castle," Beckett teased with a wide grin. "You _did_ meet my dad, after all."

"Fair point." Ricki took another swig. "Alright then. How about you come over to the loft tomorrow night and have dinner with us?"

Beckett's smile grew. "I'd like that."

Beckett's phone vibrated against the table, interrupting the moment. They released each other's hands with a simultaneous sigh, and Ricki downed the rest of her beer as the detective placed the phone to her ear.

"Beckett." She nodded, locking eyes with Ricki. "Got it." Hanging up, Beckett grinned. "You ready for your first case as an NYPD consultant, Castle?"

Ricki couldn't help herself; she was practically beaming. "Lead the way, Detective Beckett."

* * *

><p><em>Downtown…<em>

Ricki turned her head as soon as she and Detective Beckett walked into the apartment. The smell wasn't nearly as bad as she had expected – though the writer supposed there was something to be said for the body not starting to rot yet – but the sight…she wasn't prepared for that.

She turned her back to the body, bloody on the floor. Ricki covered her face with her left hand, taking in a deep breath as she felt a hand on her left shoulder. She glanced at Beckett and felt her cheeks burn, shaking her head.

"You alright, Castle?"

"Yeah." She sucked in a deep breath. She wasn't about to blow chunks at the crime scene, especially with Detectives Ryan and Esposito already here. Not the first impression she wanted to leave with her new pseudo-partners. "Just…it's a little different when you see 'em up close."

"Yeah, it is." Beckett gave Ricki's shoulder a squeeze before turning to Esposito. "What do we have?"

"Multiple stab wounds." Esposito read from his notepad, never once looking up. "Apartment belonged to a man named Jack Coonan."

Beckett frowned. "Coonan?"

Ryan joined Esposito with a sigh, cringing at the sight of the body. "Yeah, rumored to be an enforcer for the Westies."

Ricki frowned. "Westies?"

Ryan shrugged. "Irish mob."

Beckett nodded toward the body. "Is this Coonan?"

"Won't know for sure until I get him back to the lab." Lanie Parish brushed past Beckett, stopping to glance at Ricki over by the television and giving the detective a knowing smile. She ignored Beckett's eye roll. "But if I had to guess? I'd say the mob's down a man."

Beckett nodded, kneeling by the body. "I don't see any entry wounds."

Lanie sighed. "It's cause of all the blood. This was a messy one, Kate. Let me get him cleaned up and on my slab. I'll have a lot more for you then."

Beckett nodded and rose again, crossing to the far end of the living room and making sure her heels didn't step in any of the blood spatter. She hated the fact that a body dropped while she was out with Ricki – not only because it took time away from their date, but because she had to come to a crime scene all dressed up.

Her feet were _killing_ her.

"You sure you're alright, Castle? You're looking a little green."

Ricki shrugged. "It'll pass." She looked down at the TV stand, frowning. "Johnny Vong?" She shook her head. "What's an Irish mob enforcer doing watching videos about get-rich-quick schemes?"

Beckett shot Ricki a confused glance before her eyes followed, seeing a DVD case next to the TV, an Asian man with a plastic smile and a three-piece suit giving two thumbs up on the cover. Since she was wearing gloves, Beckett grabbed the case. "Hey, Ryan."

Ryan approached with an evidence bag, holding it open as Beckett slipped the case into it.

Ricki frowned at the sight. "You think there might be something important on there?"

"Probably not." Beckett took off her gloves. "But aside from the blood, there's no other physical evidence here. It's a needle-in-a-haystack sort of thing. Happens more often in this job than I'd like."

Ricki swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Beckett saw this and slipped her arm around the writer's, calling over her shoulder to Ryan and Esposito. "Canvass the other apartments, see if anyone saw or heard anything. And let me know if CSU finds anything. Castle and I will contact next-of-kin."

Beckett led Ricki out of the apartment, before the writer dropped to her knees and proceeded to vomit all over the hallway carpet. Beckett cringed and kept Ricki's ponytail out of the way, waiting for the heaving and the retching to stop before crouching beside her and rubbing her back.

Ricki wiped her mouth with a cringe, catching her breath. "Sorry…"

Beckett shrugged. "I lost count of how many times I got sick over a body my first year in Homicide." She gently helped Ricki back to her feet, taking the author's hand and giving it a squeeze. "But hey, at least you didn't puke _on_ the body."

Ricki cringed again. "That would've been embarrassing."

"You have no idea…"


	8. Chapter 8: Out of Nowhere

_Downtown…_

Despite not having slept any the previous night – kept awake by the all-too-vivid sight of Jack Coonan's bloody corpse – Ricki Castle felt a surge of adrenaline as she and Detective Beckett left Dick Coonan's office. She walked in-step with the detective, her usual cup of coffee in her grasp.

"Am I the only one who got a bad vibe off Dick?"

Detective Beckett cast a sideways glance, sipping at her own coffee. "What do you mean?"

Ricki stopped, turning to face Beckett – and nearly getting lost in her eyes. A smile tugged at the writer's lips, but she cleared her throat and bought herself a few more seconds with a sip of coffee. "Okay, first of all? Smug doesn't even begin to cover it. Secondly? Did you see the way he reacted when we told him his brother was dead? He barely even flinched!"

Beckett shrugged. "People react to devastating news differently, Castle. And maybe Dick and Jack weren't all that close. I mean…one's a lawyer, the other was a mob enforcer. I don't see them spending Thanksgiving together exchanging pleasantries."

"Maybe…" Ricki tossed her empty cup into a nearby trash can once the duo were back outside, wandering the sidewalk en route back to the precinct. "But Martin and I can't stand each other, but if someone knocked on my door and told me he was dead, I'd give a little more than a plastic smile and a 'That's too bad'."

"You're not wrong." Beckett sighed. "But until we get something concrete…"

Almost as if on-cue, Beckett's phone rang. She glanced at the screen and smiled. "It's Lanie. I bet she got something." Answering the call, Beckett made sure the phone was on speaker. "Beckett."

"Girl, where are you?" The digitized voice was strained and cracked.

Beckett and Ricki frowned. "We're only a few blocks away, Lanie. What's up?"

"Get here as soon as you can, Kate. There's something you need to see."

The line went dead.

* * *

><p><em>The precinct…<em>

As soon as Beckett and Castle got back to the precinct, Lanie led them into a conference room, where an older gentleman wearing a gray suit with matching tie sat with a stuffed manila folder in front of him. He stood when the pair entered the room, unbuttoning his jacket.

"Clark Murray." He introduced, shaking both Beckett and Castle's hands.

Beckett gave Lanie a confused look, and Lanie nodded. "Dr. Murray is a retired ME, worked with the NYPD for 25 years."

"He even helped me several year ago with some research for _Unholy Storm_." Ricki smiled. "Good to see you again, Doctor."

"I wish I could say the same." Dr. Murray sat with a sigh, and as Beckett and Ricki sat across from him, they exchanged glances and frowns. A sense of dread was starting to overtake the room, and it only got worse when the door opened and Beckett saw Captain Montgomery walk in.

He nodded once to Beckett before taking the seat next to Dr. Murray.

Beckett could barely contain the fear. "Lanie, what-?"

"When I cleaned Jack Coonan's body, I studied the stab wounds." As Lanie spoke, Dr. Murray produced a series of photographs from the folder, passing them around the table. Ricki made it a point not to look at them, but by the time Jack's photo got to Beckett, she gasped and her heart skipped a beat.

"They looked familiar, but I couldn't be sure, so I called Dr. Murray for a consult." Lanie reached out and cupped Beckett's hand into hers. "I wanted to make sure before I told you anything."

Ricki couldn't help herself, glancing at the photo in front of Beckett. "I don't understand…they just look like random stab wounds."

"They're supposed to look that way." Dr. Murray cleared his throat. "We're looking at the work of a professional, probably a contract killer, whose methods are used to make it look like a random stabbing to throw investigators off the trail."

Ricki's eyes flickered from the retired ME to Beckett, and the sadness she saw in the detective's eyes made her heart skip a beat. Ricki swallowed, feeling nauseous all over again, tentatively snaking her hand out to grab Beckett's, giving it a soft squeeze.

"Kate…?"

Beckett lifted her gaze, meeting Ricki's eyes. She sucked in a deep breath, shaking her head and sliding the photograph back across the table. "These are the same stab wounds my mom had."

Dr. Clark put the photo back in the folder. "Only one wound is needed to kill. The rest are just for show. There are five murders on file fitting this M.O., including that of Johanna Beckett."

Beckett flinched when Dr. Clark said her mother's name, and Ricki tightened her grip on the detective's hand. She glanced at Montgomery, who had a look on his face she couldn't quite place – then again, she was so stuck on the sight of Kate with tears in her eyes, a sadness no one like her should ever have to experience – that Ricki wasn't exactly thinking straight.

"What are we saying?" Ricki shook her head. "That whoever killed Jack Coonan also killed Beckett's mom?"

Lanie nodded. "And others."

Montgomery stood, as did Dr. Murray. The two men shook hands and the retired ME nodded before he and Lanie left the room in silence. Lanie squeezed Beckett's shoulder on her way out, and the detective gave a sad smile as thanks.

Once the door closed, Montgomery locked it and shuttered the blinds.

Ricki shook her head. "You're taking her off the case, aren't you?"

"No." Both Ricki and Beckett frowned in confusion at the admission. "I know you, Beckett. I know Johanna's murder is what made you become a cop. Remember how we met?"

Beckett nodded, her eyes fixated on the table, her hand still clasped in Ricki's.

"I pull you off this case, you'll just run even faster toward it." Montgomery shook his head. "At least this way, I can keep an eye on you, make sure you don't fall too deep down the rabbit hole." He stared at the conjoined hands on the table. "Ricki, you sure you still want to shadow Detective Beckett? This may wind up being more than you bargained for."

Ricki never once tore her gaze from Beckett. "I'm not going anywhere, Roy."

Beckett squeezed Ricki's hand in reply, and the writer felt her pulse quicken.

Montgomery smiled and shook his head, as if he knew that was going to be Ricki's answer. He'd known the writer for little more than a day, and he could already tell this was about something deeper than just conducting book research. The evidence was practically right there on the table, but more than anything, he saw it in the way the two looked at each other.

If nothing else, he hoped they could survive what was to come.

"Fine. But do me a favor, Detective. Go home."

Beckett shot an angry glare at her boss. "Sir…"

"Ryan and Esposito are working the Vong angle as we speak. And unless and until we find a connection there, there's not much else you can do. You've had a hard day already, Detective. Go. Try to get some rest and start fresh tomorrow."

Beckett opened her mouth to speak.

"That's an order, Detective."

Montgomery left the conference room as Ricki scooted her chair closer to Beckett's. Their hands were still clasped together, even though Ricki's palm was starting to sweat. Ricki leaned in and placed a tentative kiss on top of Beckett's head.

"I'm sorry, Castle…"

Ricki frowned. "For what?"

"For dragging you into this." Beckett shook her head, her free hand tugging on the chain around her neck. "Not sure this is what you had in mind when you decided to shadow me, leaping into my mom's murder."

"You heard what I told Roy." Ricki squeezed her hand again. "I'm not going anywhere."

Beckett took a deep breath and blinked rapidly, trying to stem the tears burning in her eyes. She gave Ricki's a hand a squeeze before reluctantly letting go and pushing herself out of her chair. "Ricki…look, I know we said we'd have dinner with your folks tonight, but…do you mind if we don't?"

"No." Ricki shook her head. "No, I get it."

"Good." Beckett sighed. "Because there's something I wanna show you."

* * *

><p><em>Beckett's apartment…<em>

Ricki had imagined being led into Beckett's place several times in the week-plus since they met, but this definitely hadn't been how she envisioned it. Not necessarily the apartment itself – though the décor definitely screamed _Beckett_ – but the circumstances. She barely had time to peel off her coat before Beckett led her into a room near the back of the apartment.

Beckett stopped with a sigh, and Ricki could see the tension in her shoulders. At a loss for what else to do, the writer stepped forward and placed her hands on the detective's shoulders and kissed her temple.

"Hey…whatever it is, you can trust me. Okay?"

Beckett nodded with a sigh, glancing over her shoulder and giving Ricki a sad smile. She stepped out of Ricki's hands and used both hands to pull open the shutters, revealing what Ricki could only describe as the white board at the precinct on steroids.

Ricki took everything in, from the photograph of Johanna standing in front of the American and New York flags, to pictures of Johanna's lifeless body in an alley, to dates and names and question marks and all manner of other things that didn't make much sense.

Even as she was in awe, Ricki felt her heart breaking.

"Kate…"

"This is everything I have on my mom's murder." Beckett stood up a little straighter, as if her posture would hide the pain evident in her voice. Jack Coonan's murder was opening up old wounds, wounds Ricki didn't like seeing re-opened. She stayed close to Beckett, studying everything on that wall.

"The police investigation didn't go very far." Beckett shook her head. "Detective Raglan worked the case, called it gang violence."

Ricki frowned. "And that was that?"

Beckett nodded and sniffled. "Not one break in almost ten years." She glanced at Ricki, tears in her eyes. "Until now."

Ricki stepped in front of Beckett, her hands on the detective's shoulders. "Hey…I will do whatever you want. Anything you need. Anything at all. Even if it's nothing."

A tear fell from Beckett's eye and she smiled, leaning in to Ricki's touch when the writer's thumb brushed away the tear. Ricki stepped closer to Beckett and their eyes met, for what felt like the thousandth time that day, before Beckett leaned in, closed her eyes, and kissed Ricki.

It was light at first, until Kate wrapped her arms around Ricki's waist. The kiss deepened, their bodies nearly pressed flush together. Ricki kept her grip tight on Kate's shoulders, sighing with delight as their lips tangled, their tongues teasing to part each other's mouths.

Kate broke the kiss with a ragged breath, her lower lip quivering. Tears were in her eyes again, and Beckett looked up at Ricki, a shaky finger trailing her jaw.

"Just stay, Ricki." Kate swallowed. "Please?"

Ricki kissed Beckett's forehead before reluctantly letting go of their embrace. "Always."

From over Beckett's shoulder, Ricki thought she saw something shimmer outside the window. She frowned, convinced she had seen things as she felt Beckett grab her hand. But the flicker returned, and Ricki's eyes widened with dread.

"Beckett, get down!"

A blast.

Broken glass.

Ricki grabbing Beckett by the shoulders and tackling her to the ground, the two of them crashing into the dining room table before the detective's back slammed against linoleum flooring. Ricki gasped for air as she glanced up at the window, a cold shiver running down her spine when she saw the small hole in the glass.

Her stomach churned. Ricki's left hand was on Beckett's chest…and it was warm. Ricki looked down, tears in her own eyes once she saw her own fingers bathed in crimson. Blood oozed from the center of Beckett's chest and Ricki nearly recoiled in horror. She brushed strands of hair out of Beckett's forehead with her non-bloody hand, shaking her head as her lower lip quivered.

Beckett's skin was growing cold, fear in her eyes. All of her color was gone, and she was trembling.

"No…" Ricki's hand shook so bad, she almost couldn't dial the number before clutching the phone to her ear. "Roy! Beckett's down!" She choked back a sob, her blood-stained hand clutching to Kate's chest.

"She's been shot, Roy! I think it was a sniper! We need an ambulance to her place _now_!"

Hanging up, Ricki tossed the phone aside and clutched at Kate's shirt, tears streaming down her face. She shook her head, trying desperately not to break down, not with the detective's eyes staring back up at her.

"Stay with me, Kate! Stay with me…" Ricki sniffled. "Don't you die on me! You hear me?! You still have to meet Martha and Alexis, okay?"

Ricki couldn't tell if Beckett nodded or if it was just the tremors.

"Help's on the way, Kate. You're gonna be fine." Even as she said it, Ricki didn't think it was true. "You're gonna pull through this, and we're gonna find out who killed Coonan, then we're gonna get whoever killed your mom. Okay?

"I promise, Kate." She grabbed Beckett's hand and squeezed. "I _promise_!"


	9. Chapter 9: ICU

_**Author's Note: Not gonna lie, writing this one hurt a little bit...**_

* * *

><p><em>The hospital…<em>

The minutes after a sniper's bullet pierced through the window in Kate Beckett's apartment were a blur. Cliché as that sounded, for Ricki, it was the truth. Even as she paced in the waiting room outside of surgery, Ricki still had blood on her hand and on her shirt. She shook her head, completely oblivious to everyone around her.

Detectives Ryan and Esposito had come, and Captain Montgomery was on his way – but Manhattan traffic being what it was, there was no telling when he'd get there. Ryan and Ricki had exchanged brief pleasantries when the detectives arrived, but Esposito hadn't said a word.

All things considered, that was probably for the best.

She couldn't stop reliving those fateful seconds. The flicker of light, the one Ricki thought she had imagined, then the next. The blast of a trigger being pulled. The bullet piercing through the glass. Their bodies toppling over the dining table.

The sickening realization that Beckett was bleeding. Panic. Fear. Stomach-churning certainty that Ricki was watching her new partner's final moments.

Guilt. After all, if Ricki hadn't asked to start shadowing Detective Beckett, would this have happened? Sure, the Coonan case would probably still come up, the connection to Johanna's murder might've still been found. But…if Beckett hadn't taken Ricki back to her apartment…what then?

"_Mom!_"

For the first time since arriving at the hospital, the here and now pierced into Ricki's psyche, and she looked up to see her teenaged daughter sprinting toward her. They caught each other in a frantic, clingy hug, Ricki letting out a sob as her knees buckled.

"Mom…" Alexis squeezed her mother as tightly as she could, and Ricki felt another pair of arms surrounding her, knowing without seeing that Martha was also there. Ricki sniffled and kissed the top of Alexis' head before reluctantly letting go of their embrace.

"How ya doin', kiddo?" Martha's voice held a warmth and concern Ricki hadn't heard in years.

Ricki just shook her head, not wanting to talk out of fear of losing what little control she still had over her emotions. She stroked Alexis' hair, careful to use the hand that wasn't covered in Beckett's dried blood.

Alexis looked up at her mom. "You're not hurt?"

Ricki shook her head again. It wasn't entirely true – she was pretty sure she did something to her left knee when she tackled Beckett to the ground, but that paled in comparison to what the detective was undergoing.

* * *

><p><em>The operating room…<em>

"GSW to the chest. Caucasian female, early 30s!"

"BP 80 over 35 and dropping!"

"Cut the shirt open! We don't have much time!"

_Beep…beep…beep…beep…_

The team of surgeons worked in perfect concert, connecting Detective Beckett to a series of machines as her shirt was cut in two and pulled off of her body. Her eyes were shut, her skin, already pale, looking even more so under the harsh light.

"Entry wound in the center of the chest."

"I don't see an exit wound!"

"Get that bullet!"

"We need to release the pressure!"

"Make an incision along the left side. No more than an inch or two."

No sooner did the surgeon's blade touch skin, blood poured from the incision and splashed onto the floor. The surgeon stepped back in shock before finding his footing again, feeding a tube into the new cut. Blood continued to pour.

"Where's all that blood coming from?!"

"BP still dropping!"

"Come on, come on!"

_Beep… … … beep … … beep … … … … … beep…_

* * *

><p><em>The waiting room…<em>

"Mom, what's taking so long?"

Ricki cleared her throat and shook her head. God, her mouth was dry – so dry that when she went to speak, her voice cracked. "They're still working, pumpkin." She stroked her daughter's hair, staring straight ahead. "I'd be more worried if they came back out quickly."

Esposito was pacing, cracking his knuckles and snarling. It made everyone else in the waiting room uncomfortable, but if that was how the detective wanted to cope, then Ricki wasn't going to begrudge him that – mostly because she already knew his opinion of her and the last thing they needed to do was start something while Beckett was in surgery.

Captain Montgomery still hadn't showed yet. Traffic must've been worse than usual. Ricki checked her watch, confirming that suspicion; it was the height of rush hour.

When the doors to the waiting room burst open, Ricki looked up and saw Jim striding with purpose toward the group. Feeling tears threatening her eyes, Ricki shook her head and distracted herself by placing a kiss on top of Alexis' head. She and Martha exchanged a look, before Ricki moved the sleeping redhead to lean against Martha and stood.

She couldn't hold everything in anymore, and Ricki barely made it to the privacy of the nearby stairwell before she crumpled down to her knees with a loud sob, burying her face in her hands as her body shook.

The tears were practically a stream running down Ricki's face, her mouth agape. The dried blood was all too visible to the writer, even through the fog of her own tears, and she leaned back against the wall, letting herself release the tears that had been threatening her eyes – ever since the meeting with Dr. Murray, if she was being perfectly honest.

Ricki had been so busy crying that she hadn't noticed the door to the stairwell opening again, another body sliding down to the floor beside her. She sniffled and swiped at her nose with a shaky hand, jumping out of her skin when the presence to her left finally registered.

"Shit…" She closed her eyes and her lower lip quivered. "Mr. Beckett…"

"Ricki." Jim's voice shook and he glanced at Ricki's hand. If it were possible, it looked like his face went white all over again. "You…"

"It's not my blood." Ricki shook her head, another sob overwhelming her. "I tried to save her, Jim…I tackled her to the floor, but…she still got hit." Her fingers shook, the red caked into her skin. Ricki wondered if it would ever wash out – and even if it did, she'd still probably see it.

"I'm glad someone was with her." Jim stared at his own hands. "I'm glad she wasn't alone."

The two sat for several minutes without saying anything, another wave of tears overwhelming Ricki. She felt Jim's hand on her back as the sobs took over again, shaking her head and snaking her fingers through her hair.

Jim sat up, clearing his throat. "Katie tells me you've started shadowing her." He smiled sadly when Ricki nodded. "It's a little weird, thinking of her having a partner. She hasn't had one in so long."

Ricki's voice betrayed her, but she spoke anyway. "Why?"

"Conflicting personalities." Jim shrugged. "Work ethics that didn't match. That sort of thing. No one could ever keep up with her."

Ricki sat in silence, no longer actively crying, but tears were still falling down her cheeks. Her face was little more than a series of streaks, both from her tears and the carefully-applied mascara her breakdown smudged. She wrung her hands together, trying desperately to work out the tension that was overwhelming her.

"I can already tell you've been good for her." Jim's voice broke the silence, and Ricki's head snapped up in surprise. "She seems – happier, when she calls."

"Jim…"

"She cares about you, Ricki."

Ricki gulped back another sob, squeezing her eyes shut. She felt her entire body shaking, her heart practically pounding against her rib cage. She couldn't get their last kiss out of her mind, the love it held, the comfort she had hoped to give Detective Beckett in one of her most vulnerable moments. It hadn't been their first kiss, but it felt like the most important.

Especially now.

"I love her, Jim." She shook her head and let out another sob. "No, that's…I don't yet. I can't, but…" She forced herself to look at Beckett's father, her eyes red and bloodshot. "I can already tell I will."

Jim gave a sympathetic smile. "You _do_ love her, Ricki. I can see it in your eyes." His smile grew ever so slightly when the author gave him a confused frown. "Would you be this emotional if you didn't love her?"

Shit, Jim had a point.

"You know…" Jim sighed, loosening the black tie around his neck. "Johanna and I were colleagues for almost three years." He swallowed. "People talk about being struck by a bolt of lightning. With us, it was more of a…slow burn. Took me three years to figure out I was in love with her."

It struck Ricki, even in this moment, just how easily she and Jim got along. Even the day they ran into each other at the coffee shop, he was opening up to her about things that were incredibly personal. That day, he had the excuse of her books.

What was the purpose this time?

"I would give anything to have a minute of that time back." Jim's voice turned wistful, his eyes watery as he looked at Ricki. "You think you have all the time in the world, but you don't. No one does."

Jim stood and held out a hand for Ricki, which she took and forced herself back to her feet. Her knees wobbled, and she squeezed Jim's hand to steady herself. Jim surprised Ricki with a hug, and she let her eyes close.

He broke the hug and squeezed Ricki's shoulders. "When Katie makes it through this, don't let any more time go to waste. You love my little girl, you tell her."

Ricki frowned. "When…? Don't you mean 'if'?"

Jim smiled and shook his head. "Beckett women are tough. You're about to find out how tough."

* * *

><p><em>The waiting room…<em>

As soon as she returned to the waiting room, watching as Jim sat next to Captain Montgomery, Ricki kneeled in front of Martha and lightly ran her fingers through Alexis' hair. The teenager was still asleep.

"Mother…" Ricki swallowed. Her eyes were still bloodshot and felt dry. "You and Alexis should go home. She has school tomorrow. Take her to your place if you think that'll be easier."

Martha nodded and squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "Of course, darling. What about you?"

Ricki shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere until Kate's out of surgery." She gave a sad smile. "Maybe not even then."

She was so busy with her family that she hadn't noticed Detective Esposito come up to her from behind. He cleared his throat and she jumped with a start, exhaling and shaking her head as Martha gathered up Alexis so they could leave.

"Esposito." Ricki sighed.

He regarded the author with a serious gaze, but it wasn't nearly as hard as it had been before. He waited until the two redheads left the waiting room before turning his head to the side and squinting. "What happened?"

Just as Ricki opened her mouth, the doors leading into the operating rooms burst open. Everyone in the waiting room who had been sitting rose to their feet, and a tall doctor with broad shoulders removed his surgical mask and looked around.

"Anyone here for a Katherine Beckett?"

Montgomery, Jim, Ryan, Esposito, and Ricki all rose their hands. Ricki swallowed, trying desperately to get rid of the lump in her throat. She glanced at her watch; she hadn't realized they'd been here so long by now. It was almost the next day by now.

Her heart skipped a beat at the doctor's next words.

"She's out of surgery."


	10. Chapter 10: Out of Line

_**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for the love; this story has been as much fun to write as it has been for y'all to read. Rest assured, this fic isn't going anywhere any time soon. I think this one's gonna be around for a good, long bit. Keep reading, keep enjoying, and keep reviewing!**_

* * *

><p><em>Kate Beckett's hospital room, four days after surgery…<em>

Kate Beckett still hadn't woken up since her surgery, but the doctors weren't all that concerned. After all, she needed to heal, and what better way for her body to heal from its trauma than under rest. Ricki trusted the doctors tending to her, but the fact that Kate hadn't woken up yet made her uneasy.

Not that she wasn't already uneasy. Ricki had barely left the hospital in the past few days, only leaving to eat, tend to Alexis, and even write some. Ricki didn't feel much like writing, but George wasn't budging on his deadline on the manuscript.

Apparently, seeing one's crush/muse gunned down by a sniper didn't merit an extension.

A small gift bag sat at Ricki's feet, a get-well token she desperately hoped she'd have a chance to give to Beckett. Everyone from the precinct had given her flowers – even Martha and Alexis added to the bouquet – but Ricki wanted to do something a little different.

The door opened, and Ricki looked up to see a tall man with a long face and a nice suit walk in, a small cluster of flowers in his hand. They exchanged a polite nod, before the man added his flowers to the growing assortment beside Kate's bed. He glanced at Ricki, clearing his throat and extending his right hand.

"Tom Demming." They shook hands.

"Ricki Castle."

Demming smirked and shook his head. "Wow, I had no idea she actually knew you."

"It's recent." Ricki tried to keep the conversation light, unable to tear her eyes away from the woman lying in the bed. "Not quite two weeks, I think?" Only two weeks, but it already felt like they'd been through a lifetime together.

"I work Robbery over at the Fifty-Fourth." Demming scratched under his chin. "We consulted on a case a few years back, hit it off for a little while."

Ricki's eyes flickered away from Beckett, squinting as she regarded the man. Sure, he was good looking, but the biggest vibe she got from Demming was _boring_. She mulled over his words – especially _for a little while_ – trying to keep the jealousy at bay.

"Is she gonna be okay?"

"The doctors are being real careful in what they tell us." Ricki sat back with a sigh. "But something tells me if anyone can survive a sniper bullet to the heart, it's Beckett."

Demming took an empty seat next to Ricki, and the writer glanced sideways at him. He was acting awful chummy for someone Ricki didn't even know existed until a few minutes ago. Kate hadn't told her about Demming, or anyone else for that matter – and she'd been under the impression that Beckett didn't have much of a social life.

Between the hours she put in at the precinct, and the murder board in her apartment, Ricki figured Kate wasn't much for going out, and the fact that she was once with another cop made sense to her. She didn't like it, illogical as it seemed, but she understood it.

"Can I ask you something?" The sound of Demming's voice caused Ricki to flinch. She nodded, eyeing the detective with suspicion. He cringed and ducked his head. "Is she…uh, there's not a man in her life right now…is there?"

If Demming weren't a cop, Ricki would've smacked him as hard as she could. Her mouth fell open, disbelief and disgust all over her eyes. "You sick _fuck_!" Ricki stood and her nostrils flared, and she had to put forth effort to keep her voice down. "You're gonna ask if she's available while she's _fighting for her life_?!"

Demming opened his mouth to speak, but Ricki glared at him, jabbing her finger into his chest. "To answer your question, no." Her eyes narrowed. "There is no _man_…" Ricki's brows arched, hoping Demming would pick up on her meaning.

Demming swallowed and his eyes widened. _Yeah, he got the hint_…

"I, uh…" Demming stumbled to his feet, clearing his throat. "Sorry." His eyes danced between Beckett and Ricki. He shook his head. "I didn't know."

Demming turned and left the room, brushing past Detective Esposito as the latter walked in. Esposito watched Demming leave before frowning at Ricki and tossing a thumb over his shoulder. Ricki shook her head and gave a dismissive wave of her hand – which was apparently all the explanation Esposito needed.

"Look, Castle…" Esposito kept his voice down, staring at Beckett. "I know you don't want to leave her side, and I appreciate that, but they're bringing Dick Coonan in for questioning if you'd like to come observe."

Ricki blinked. "You want me to observe the interrogation?"

"Ryan's thinking Jack Coonan's murder and Beckett's shooting are connected." Esposito shrugged. "We were thinking you might have some insight on that."

Ricki nodded and gave Beckett's hand a squeeze. "Lead the way."

* * *

><p><em>Interrogation Room, Twelfth Precinct…<em>

Even with a wall and the one-way glass separating them, Ricki still got that same vibe from Dick Coonan she got days earlier when they first informed him on his brother's murder. She had no proof, no evidence, but Ricki's gut told her this man was involved in all of this somehow, and as she stood in solitude in the observation room, her hands involuntarily curled into fists.

She watched Detectives Ryan and Esposito walk into the interrogation room, taking their respective seats across from Coonan. Ryan straightened his tie and cleared his throat. Ricki couldn't help but wonder why Esposito invited her to watch the interrogation; come to think of it, ever since Beckett's shooting, Esposito hadn't been quite so icy toward the writer.

Still, Ricki wasn't about to look that particular gift horse in the mouth; right now, all she wanted was for Beckett to wake up, get better, and for the two of them to track down whoever put that bullet in her chest, whoever stabbed her mother to death 15 years ago, and set about further developing their relationship.

Not necessarily in that order.

"Mr. Coonan…" Esposito clicked his pen and opened his notepad. "We have reason to believe your brother's murder is not, in fact, related to the Westies."

Coonan frowned with a shrug. "You couldn't have just called to tell me that?"

"No." Ryan had a look on his face Ricki hadn't seen in the short time she'd known him. "The stab wounds on Jack's body are almost identical to a series of unsolved murdered dating back almost 15 years."

No reaction registered on Coonan's face, and Ricki felt the tug on her intuition flare up again. She wished she was in the room with the detectives, though she knew she didn't have any official capacity and wouldn't be able to ask anything.

As it was, she wanted to wring Coonan's neck, even if she couldn't explain why.

Esposito pushed a series of autopsy photos across the table, but Coonan never glanced down to look at them. The tiniest hint of smirk played across his face, and his eyes narrowed. Ricki's fists tightened in response.

"So…what?" Coonan shrugged again. "Jack was taken out by a serial killer?"

"Try contract killer." There was that Esposito anger Ricki was familiar with; it made her smile this time, especially when she saw the detective lean in, his own hands curled into fists and his nostrils flared. "And I think you know more than you're lettin' on, bro."

"Really." Coonan scoffed and shook his head. "And why would that be?"

"We know you were funneling heroin into the States on the back of Johnny Vong's money scams." Ryan read for his own notepad, before his eyes flicked up to regard Coonan. Again, there was no reaction. "So we already know you're not on the up-and-up."

Esposito stood and started circling Coonan like a hungry vulture. "We also know your brother wasn't just looking for a way out of the Westies. He was all set to tell the FBI everything he knew – about the Westies, about your heroin ring, _everything_."

Coonan's eyebrows raised. "So, what? I hired someone to kill my brother?"

"The same person hired for four other killings 15 years ago."

Coonan laughed and shook his head. "This is ridiculous."

Ryan arched a brow. "Is it? Because we discovered several wire transfers of $100,000 from your account to an untraceable account over the past two decades." Ryan slid a piece of paper at Coonan. "Transfers that coincide with each of the murders – including Jack's."

Esposito leaned in, his face inches from Coonan's. "Start talkin', bro…"

Coonan sighed and sank back into his seat. "His name is Rathbourne. He's former Special Forces, we met when I was stationed in Afghanistan." He leaned away from Esposito, glancing at Ryan. "He takes a job, gets his money, then does what he's asked to do."

Esposito snarled. "What's his_ real_ name?"

Coonan shrugged. "He never told me. Look, the only time we ever make contact is when I have a job for him. I tell him who the target is, I wire him the money, and then I wait."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged a glance. "Does that work include sniper fire?"

"What?"

Esposito got in Coonan's face again. "A sniper gunned down one of our own a few days ago. Not that long after we tied your brother's murder to those others, come to think of it. You mean to tell me this Rathbourne had nothing to do with that?"

"No!" Coonan pushed out of his chair, backing away from Esposito. "He never uses guns. Like, _never_. I don't know why. It's like he's allergic to them or something, but he always works with melee weapons."

"So here's what's gonna happen." Esposito sat again. "You're going to contact Rathbourne with another job. You're going to tell him where to meet. We'll intercept him there, we'll bring him in, and if what you're saying is true, the DA _might_ cut a deal."

Coonan laughed and shook his head. "It doesn't work that way, Detective. He wants the money up-front via wire transfer. No face-to-face meetings. No cash changing hands. None of that."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged a worried glance.

"Look, you wanna find out who killed that detective's mom, the price is $100,000."

"What the…?" Ricki shook her head and, without thinking, started pounding her fist against the glass in an effort to get the detectives' attention. They glanced in her direction with a frown, before Esposito stood and left the interrogation room.

He burst through the door into the observation room with a scowl. "What the hell, Castle?!"

"How would Coonan know about Johanna's murder?" Ricki pointed at the glass. "You never said a word about her, yet Coonan just admitted to knowing about it."

Esposito's frown deepened.

"Whoever killed Jack Coonan also killed Beckett's mom." Ricki was on a roll, pacing back and forth. "And Dick Coonan knows who that person is. Hell, for all we know, Coonan himself could be Rathbourne! And for all we know, someone arranged to take out Beckett once we learned the connection between the murders."

"Yeah, but Castle…how are we gonna figure that out?"

"Pay the money."

Esposito's eyebrows jumped. "_Excuse me?!_" He shook his head. "You _did_ hear the part about the $100,000, right? Ryan and I can't just shoot that money up into the sky without any hope of getting it back, and I know the NYPD can't."

"You can't." Ricki stared through the glass. "I can."

Before Esposito could object, Ricki's phone pinged. Grabbing the device, her expression lit up when she read the message. Pocketing her phone, Ricki smiled brighter than she had in days.

"That was Jim. Beckett's awake!"

* * *

><p><em>Kate Beckett's hospital room…<em>

Brushing her hair out of her face, hoping she looked her best, Ricki walked into Beckett's room and instantly lit up when she saw the detective's eyes open. The two smiled at each other when Beckett looked up and saw who it was, and Jim – who was sitting to her right – gave his daughter a kiss atop her head.

"I'll be in the waiting room."

"Okay, dad."

Ricki smiled at Jim as he passed, and the man stopped to squeeze her shoulder. Ricki nodded before Jim leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Told you she'd make it."

The author's smile grew as Jim left, closing the door behind him. Her heart pounded in her chest, and Ricki took in a deep sigh in a futile effort to hide her nerves. The bag was clutched in her right hand. "Hi."

Despite the harsh light, Kate's face lit up when she smiled. "Hey."

Ricki crossed to the chair beside Kate's bed, sitting and taking Beckett's hand into her own. She couldn't tear her eyes off the detective, shaking her head with a sideways grin on her face.

Beckett hunched her shoulders and blushed. "You're staring…I must look _really_ bad."

"No." Ricki smirked. "I just never thought I'd see you again."

Ricki placed the bag on the bed beside Beckett, and the detective arched a brow. "What's this, Castle?"

"I didn't wanna do flowers." Ricki nodded toward the table. "So I figured a different get-well present was in order."

With an appreciative smile, Beckett grabbed the bag and rustled through the tissue paper, only to gasp as her hand found the gift in question – pulling a small stuffed gray elephant out of the bag. "Oh my God…Castle…"

Ricki smiled. "I saw the elephant statue on your desk, figured you might like that."

Beckett squeezed Ricki's hand, her smile growing. If she wasn't connected to the heart monitor and the IV drip, she would've leaned over to give the author a kiss. Instead, she just smiled and looked at Ricki through watery eyes. "Are you kidding me, Castle? I _love_ this!"

Beckett cradled the stuffed animal against herself, keeping her grip on Ricki's hand as tight as her strength would allow. "Thank you, Castle."

"No problem."

"No, not for this…" Beckett squeezed the elephant again, blinking back tears. "For trying to save me."

Ricki sat up a little straighter. "You remember."

"Yeah." Kate squeezed Ricki's hand again. "The doctors said it wouldn't be that unusual if I didn't, but…I did." She shook her head. "Which means before I can go back to work, I'll have to undergo a psych eval."

Before Ricki could say anything, her heart breaking all over again, Kate brought her back to the moment with a squeeze of her hand. The writer met the detective's gaze, something in her hazel eyes that Ricki couldn't quite place. Whatever it was, though, she was glad to see it.

"Dad told me about the talk you had. When I was in surgery."

Ricki swallowed, her heart skipping a beat. "Yeah…?"

A teasing grin crept onto Beckett's face. "Mmhmm…he says you have something to tell me."

Rickki silently cursed Kate's father, though she couldn't be mad at him. If their last conversation was anything to go on, Jim just didn't want Ricki and Kate to make the same mistake he did all those years ago. Ricki didn't disagree, but she wondered if here, in an ICU ward, was the right time or place.

Then again, would there ever be a _right_ time and place for this?

"Yeah, uh…" Ricki's fingers shook against Beckett's hand, and the detective gave her hands a squeeze. Ricki smiled her thanks, taking in a deep breath. "Listen, if I'm out of line here…I'm sorry, but…"

Ricki closed her eyes to gather her courage one more time.

"Kate…I love you."


	11. Chapter 11: Healing

Ricki Castle couldn't remember the last time she was this nervous. Then again, she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so certain about anything, so sure in her feelings for someone else that how they felt about her actually mattered.

She hadn't been in love since her short-sighted marriage to George. The logical part of her brain tried to argue that she wasn't even in love now – that it was impossible for her to feel so strongly for the person laying in the hospital bed beside her after barely two weeks, and yet…every time Ricki looked at Kate Beckett, her pulse quickened.

The author had experienced enough lust in her life to know when that was all she felt and when there was something more. This definitely felt like something more – why else would she have spent the last several days alternating between bawling her eyes out and standing guard over the detective's bed – in spite of the police presence just on the other side of that door?

What started as a professional interest – research for a new novel – was now about something else entirely, and as Ricki awaited Kate's response, palms sweaty and her nerves as shot as they've been the whole week, Ricki swallowed.

What if Kate didn't feel the same way?

She had to, though. Right?

They'd shared three kisses to this point. That had to mean something, didn't it? Kate had told Ricki that she liked her, and Ricki believed her. That was a tremendous step, considering how they had gotten off on the wrong foot when they first met.

Ricki knew that even if she didn't love Kate yet, she eventually would. That snowball was already rolling down the mountain, and it was as much of an inevitability as anything Ricki had experienced.

What struck Ricki was just how much Kate's feelings mattered to her.

"Kate…"

A shy smile crossed the detective's face, and she gave Ricki's hand a squeeze. Ricki sucked in a deep breath, equal parts anticipation and dread in her eyes. She wanted so badly for Kate to answer her, to just let her know one way or the other. Seconds had passed since Ricki's admission, but it felt like minutes, if not hours.

"Kate." Ricki straightened in her seat, trying for bravado. "I love you."

"Come here, Castle."

Momentarily confused – that certainly hadn't been what Ricki expected – she did as asked, leaning forward so that her entire upper body was hovering over the bed. Kate laid the stuffed animal in her lap before letting her hand roam to the back of Ricki's head, pulling her closer until their lips touched again.

The kiss was soft at first, but when Kate's fingers tightened in Ricki's hair, their lips pressed more firmly together, and Ricki found herself hoisting a leg up onto the bed. Under different circumstances, the writer would be pressing the issue a little bit further, but something told her a hospital bed probably wasn't the best place for that.

Reluctantly, and only because she needed the oxygen, Kate broke the kiss, pressing her forehead against Ricki's. They were both breathing heavily, though Ricki's labored breath was a product of nerves as much as anything else.

She swallowed, a tentative smile on her face.

"Castle." Kate nuzzled against Ricki, their noses briefly touching. "I…I love you too."

Ricki couldn't find the words to describe the sensation that coursed through her when the detective's words finally sank in. For someone who made a living with words, the things that left Ricki speechless were the things she admired the most. Her smile grew until she could feel an ache growing in her cheeks, her hand softly caressing the side of Kate's face.

She felt tears burning the edges of her eyes, and though Ricki was tired of crying, she much preferred this to the sobbing she'd done since Kate's shooting. Her fingers interlocked with the detective's, and Ricki released the ragged breath she'd been holding.

"Dad tells me you've been here almost non-stop since my surgery."

Ricki nodded, placing a soft kiss to Kate's forehead. "Only left to eat, take care of Alexis, and help the boys with the Coonan case."

Kate arched a brow. "Esposito let you help out?"

"Hey, I'm just as surprised as you." Ricki chuckled and shook her head.

Kate's expression turned serious, and she squeezed Ricki's hand hard enough that it started to hurt. Ricki kept quiet about it, though, just grateful for the contact. "How's it going?" The detective frowned. "The case…"

Before Ricki could answer, the door opened. She looked up in time to see a pair of redheads enter, and she silently thanked whatever higher power was pulling the strings that she didn't yet have to tell Kate about the case. She didn't want to dump all of this emotional heaviness on top of Beckett while she was healing.

"Hi, mom." Alexis squeezed Ricki into a tight hug while Martha hovered near the doorway.

"Hey, pumpkin." Ricki kissed the top of her daughter's head. "Mother, Alexis…I'd like you to meet Detective Kate Beckett."

Kate waved with a sheepish smile, still holding on to Ricki's hand. Alexis didn't seem to notice, but Kate saw the older woman's brow arching before she cast a glance Ricki's way.

"Detective Beckett." Martha's tone was even, but her body language was hard to read. "Nice to finally meet you. Rebecca has told us so much about you."

Kate frowned. "Rebecca?"

Ricki sighed, feeling her ears burn. "My, uh…my given name is Rebecca Rodgers." She shook her head. "I legally changed it years ago, but Mother still insists on calling me Rebecca."

"Beats some other things I could call you, kiddo."

Kate couldn't help but smile as Ricki's face turned beet red. They squeezed their hands in unison, and when their eyes met, Ricki forgot all about her mother's constant needling and gave another big, toothy smile. Alexis saw this and couldn't help but smirk.

"I knew it."

Ricki feigned a frown. "Knew what?"

"You have a crush." The teenager's grin was as wide as Ricki's, and the writer sighed in resignation. She was getting it from both her mother and her daughter, and apparently, there was nothing she could do about it.

Ricki's eyes met Kate's, and it was clear the detective was enjoying the show. "See what I have to deal with every day?"

Kate laughed and shook her head. The sound of Martha clearing her throat interrupted the festivities, and when Ricki looked up, she saw a look on her mother's face that she hadn't seen in years.

"Darling, can we talk?" Martha's head tilted back. "Outside."

"Sure." Reluctantly letting go of Kate's hand, she placed a kiss on top of the detective's head before doing the same with Alexis. Alexis took Ricki's place in the chair, grabbing the stuffed elephant and whispering something to Kate.

Ricki and Martha stepped out into the hallway before Ricki found an open bench for them to sit in. She lowered herself onto it with a sigh, the physical exhaustion finally threatening to overtake her. "What is it, Mother?"

"Rebecca Abigail Rodgers, just what do you think you're doing?"

Ricki blinked and leaned away from Martha; she couldn't remember the last time her mother had used her full name like that. She didn't like it when she was a child, and she didn't care for it now, either.

"Mother…"

"You are _not_ a cop!" Martha jabbed her finger into Ricki's chest, her voice shaky. "And yet here you are pretending to be one because of some…" She waved her hands dramatically over her head. "…_crush_!"

"Mother." Ricki spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep her voice down. "I told you, I'm researching for my next novel."

"And you just happen to be shadowing the prettiest detective in New York City." Martha shook her head and placed a hand on Ricki's shoulder. "Rebecca, darling…I saw the way you looked at her in there just now. I haven't seen you look at someone like that in years."

Ricki frowned. "And that's a problem?"

"If you get hurt." Martha shrugged. "Or worse…"

"Mother…"

"Rebecca…"

"You think I should stop shadowing Detective Beckett?"

"I think you should be honest with yourself about why you're doing this." Martha shook her head. "You've written how many bestsellers now? And you didn't have to spend every day in a precinct or by Katherine's bedside to do it."

Ricki sighed and leaned her back against the wall. "It's not about the books anymore."

"I know, kiddo."

Truth be told, Ricki wasn't mad at her mother. She was just looking out for her. And given Rebecca's history of not dealing well when love went wrong, she couldn't blame Martha for expressing her doubts.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Rebecca." Martha stood, her features softening as she extended a hand toward her daughter. "She's a fighter. If she makes it out of here, you better kiss her while you're both still young."

Ricki stood and gave her mother a knowing smile, her brows arching before she walked back into Kate's room. Martha stood in the doorway speechless, before a smile crept onto her face and she shook her head.

When Ricki came back into the room, she saw Kate and Alexis laughing about something, before Alexis leaned in and whispered something into the detective's ear. Ricki arched a brow, standing over Alexis and stroking her hair.

"I hope she's not embarrassing me too much."

Alexis leaned back in the chair with a shit-eating grin on her face. "I was just telling Detective Beckett about how you couldn't stop talking about her the night you first met."

Ricki's cheeks turned beet red and Kate laughed.

"Mom." Alexis squeezed the hand on her shoulder. "When Detective Beckett gets out of here, can she come over for dinner?"

Ricki and Kate exchanged a smile before the detective sat up in her bed. "I'd love to."

"My food is so much better than this place." Ricki flashed a hopeful grin. "Promise."

Martha had entered the room, placing a hand on Alexis' shoulder and giving Kate a warm smile. "Alexis, darling, it's time to go. You still have homework to finish and dinner to eat."

As she ushered Alexis out of the room, Martha and Ricki exchanged a knowing look. Ricki smiled with a wave. "Love you guys. I'll call when I get home."

The door shut behind the two redheads, and as Ricki took her place in the chair again, her phone rang. Giving Kate an apologetic look, she pulled the device out of her pocket and answered. "Castle."

She glanced at Kate with a nod. "Yeah?"

"Okay."

"Do it."

As soon as Ricki hung up the phone, she saw Kate sitting up with a serious look on her face. "Castle." She blinked and swallowed. "What's going on?"

"That was Ryan." Ricki grabbed Kate's hand again. "They're about to make an arrest."

Kate frowned. "Who?"

"With any luck…" Ricki sighed, looking deep into Kate's hazel eyes. "The man who killed your mother."


	12. Chapter 12: The One That Got Away

_**Author's Note: I guess I should start adding a disclaimer, huh? I don't own Castle, any of its characters, or the novels published by Hyperion under the name Richard Castle. Enjoy!**_

* * *

><p>While Kate Beckett slept, Ricki Castle sat at her bedside, computer hoisted onto her lap, fingers a blur as they worked over the keys. Inspiration had returned since Kate woke up from her surgery, and with any luck, the first draft of the <em>Heat Wave<em> manuscript would be ready for George by the end of the week.

If nothing else, that would buy Ricki about a week of peace and quiet. Maybe.

A trash can sat at Ricki's feet, a clump of roses in the can. After Detective Demming's stunt earlier that day, he didn't deserve for Kate to know of his gesture. A shudder ran through Ricki as she thought of just how skeevy that man had been.

Honestly, asking if someone was available while they were recovering from surgery…Ricki had done some messed-up things in her day, but that was beyond low.

Ricki typed as slowly as she could to keep her rhythm, so as not to wake Kate, but the sound of the door opening broke her concentration. Mad at first, the anger turned into confusion when she saw Esposito pop his head in and wave for Ricki to leave the room.

Reluctantly, Ricki stood, placing the laptop on the chair and leaning forward to place a kiss atop Kate's head. The detective slept soundly, the stuffed elephant tucked in her arms. Ricki smiled at the sight, and it took Esposito clearing his throat to break her out of the trance.

Ricki stepped out the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. She saw the look on both Ryan and Esposito's faces, and the warmth she felt just seconds earlier faded.

"What's going on?"

"We got a problem." Esposito shook his head and glanced over his shoulder. "Coonan's gone."

Ricki frowned. "What? What do you mean _gone_?"

Ryan sighed. "We wired the money and set up the meet, just like you asked. Only Rathbourne never showed, and by the time we got back to the precinct, uniforms had already escorted Coonan out of the building."

Running her fingers through her hair, Ricki heaved a tired sigh and glanced back at the door with a shake of her head. "That's because Coonan _is_ Rathbourne."

Esposito frowned. "What?"

"How else would he know about Johanna's murder without us tipping our hand on it?" Ricki sat on a nearby bench, burying her face in her hands. Ryan sat to her left, with Esposito pacing back and forth.

"So now Coonan's back out there." Esposito curled his hands into fists.

Ricki shook her head. "And I bet he's already tipped off whoever's pulling the strings."

Ryan frowned. "You think Coonan answers to someone else?"

"He's powerful." Ricki sighed and leaned back against the wall. "But he's not _that_ powerful. I should've known he was involved somehow…"

"Why?"

"The day Beckett got shot, she and I went to speak to Coonan that morning, to tell him about Jack. When she introduced herself…" Ricki shook her head. "As soon as Coonan heard the word _Beckett_, something flashed in his eyes. I didn't think anything of it then, but in light of everything else since then? The tie to Johanna's murder? The sniper? Whatever we're dealing with, this is a lot more than just the mafia hit on a Westies enforcer."

Ryan shook his head. "We'll find a way to get you that money back."

"Negative, Ghost Rider." Ricki sat up again. "It's not about the money. Besides, if _Heat Wave_ does half as a well as _Storm Fall_, I'll make that money back and then some."

"Still." Esposito sat on the other side of Ricki. "That was a hell of a thing you did."

Ricki shrugged. "I saw a shot at finding out who killed Beckett's mom, and I took it."

Esposito cast a sideways glance at the writer. "You love her."

Ricki sighed and sat back against the wall again, staring up at the ceiling. She really didn't feel like going down this road with Detective Esposito. Ricki rolled her eyes and forced herself to look at Esposito. "Javier—"

"Hey." He shook his head. "We love her too, okay?"

Both detectives stood, and Esposito extended his right arm. Ricki shook his hand, and the two exchanged a nod. "Thanks for your help, Castle." He glanced at the door. "Could you give us a moment? We need to fill Beckett in on what's happened."

"Yeah." Ricki swallowed back her dread. "Yeah, sure. I'll be right here."

Ryan gave Ricki's shoulder a squeeze before the detectives disappeared into Beckett's room. Once the door latched shut, Ricki grabbed her smartphone and pressed the device to her ear, her left leg rapidly bouncing up and down.

"Mother." The writer sighed. "Listen, I need you to do something for me, and I need you not to ask a bunch of questions, okay?" Ricki chewed on her bottom lip. "I think the man who shot Beckett is still on the loose, and there's no telling what he'd gonna do next, so I need you to take Alexis to the Hamptons and stay there until you hear different from me." She sighed. "Mother, what did I say about asking questions?"

Ricki pinched the bridge of her nose. "No, I don't. But I don't want to take any chances here. Just…please, Mother!" Ricki cringed at the outburst, sinking back into herself and cupping her free hand over her mouth. "Please…"

Wiping at her eye, Ricki nodded. "I love you guys."

* * *

><p><em>Twenty minutes later…<em>

The detectives came out of Kate's room, their faces as somber as they had been when they first went in, and Ricki stood as they approached her. She sighed out a ragged breath, swallowing back her dread.

"So…?"

Esposito nodded toward the door. "She's asking for you, Castle."

"Go be with her." Ryan gave Castle a pat on the back. "We're gonna head back to the precinct, figure out what our next move is."

Ricki nodded. "Call if you need anything."

Esposito shook his head as the two detectives left. "Right now, _she_ needs you."

Ricki stepped into Kate's room again, and her heart broke when she saw the detective sitting up, clutching at the stuffed elephant with both hands, crying. Ricki tried to close the door as quietly as possible, before crossing the room, closing her laptop, and pushing her chair as close to the bed as she could.

Ricki gently placed her hand on Kate's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, taking in a deep breath to keep her composure. She hated seeing Kate like this – it was bad enough that she was still stuck in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and IVs. But an emotional breakdown on top of her recovering from physical trauma?

"Kate…"

The detective looked up at Ricki with watery, bloodshot eyes, tightening her grip on the stuffed elephant before leaning into the writer's touch. Ricki climbed onto the bed, careful not to tangle herself in the wires connecting the detective to all of those machines. Kate rested her head on Ricki's shoulder, closing her eyes and giving the stuffed animal a squeeze.

"We were so close, Castle." Kate sniffled. "It was _right there_ and…"

"I know." Ricki gave Kate's shoulder a squeeze, kissing the top of her head. "It's not over yet. We'll find Coonan, and we'll track down Rathbourne, and we'll figure out the whole puzzle."

Kate brushed her thumb under her eyes, angling her head to look up at Ricki. "The boys told me about what you did."

Ricki felt her cheeks grow hot, looking away. "I…" She sighed. "I'm sorry. I overstepped."

"No…" Kate sat up a little sniffling and running a finger along Ricki's jawline. "Ricki. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have gotten as far as we did." Kate placed a soft kiss on Ricki's lips before their foreheads touched. "I'm gonna get out of here, and I'm gonna find the sons of bitches who had Coonan kill my mom. And I want you to be there when I do."

Ricki smiled and kissed Kate before the detective laid her head on the writer's shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, disturbed only by the occasional hum of the heart monitor. Ricki kissed the top of Kate's head and softly ran her hand up and down the detective's back.

"Castle?"

"Yeah, Kate?"

Kate arched her neck to look up at Ricki, her hand pressed flat on the top of the writer's chest. "Will you read to me?"

Ricki frowned in confusion, taking in her surroundings. "I don't have anything to read to you, Beckett. Just my unfinished manuscript of _Heat Wave_."

"That's fine." Kate gave a sleepy grin. "Read me the first chapter?"

With one of the bigger smiles she'd had in recent days, Ricki grabbed the laptop and pulled it open, silently hoping she still had enough battery life to fulfill the detective's request. With s smirk, she scrolled all the way up to the top of the document, clearing her throat.

Just before Ricki could begin, though, she felt Kate burrowing in closer to her, their bodies pressed more firmly together. The writer's heart swelled, and she looked down at the woman curled up against her, wishing to freeze this moment in time.

Ricki cleared her throat again.

"_It was always the same for her when she arrived to meet the body. __After she unbuckled her seat belt, after she pulled a stick pen from the rubber band on the sun visor, after her long fingers brushed her hip to feel the comfort of her service piece, what she always did was pause. Not long. Just the length of a slow deep breath. That's all it took for her to remember the one thing she will never forget. Another body waited. She drew the breath. And when she could feel the raw edges of the hole that had been blown in her life, Detective Nikki Heat was ready. She opened the car door and went to work_."

* * *

><p><em>Somewhere in Manhattan…<em>

Dick Coonan sighed when the black, unmarked SUV finally pulled into the parking garage, tossing his half-smoked cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with his shoes – shoes that probably cost more than the vehicle that had just approached.

Coonan put his hands in his pockets, indifference etched onto his face as another man, with a military-style haircut, a black leather jacket, and the build of a linebacker, emerged from the back seat of the SUV. The sound of the door slamming shut echoed through the garage.

"You're late." Coonan shook his head. "Maybe I should get you a watch next Christmas."

"I was finishing up a job." The man carried himself with an arrogance born from years of being the best at what he did. He was the best sniper the Army had to offer, even if he didn't officially exist, and now that he was back in the civilian world, he still managed to find a need for his specific skill set.

"Yeah, well, we have a problem."

The man arched a brow and shook his head. "I heard about Jack."

"This isn't about him." Coonan shook his head. "Okay, it sort of _is_. The police managed to tie his murder with the murders I committed 15 years ago."

The man squinted. "I know. Why do you think they asked me to shoot that cop?"

Understanding washed over Coonan's face. "That's what they meant?!" He paced back and forth, shaking his head. "The cops told me one of their own had been gunned down by a sniper." He took a step toward the mystery man, narrowing his eyes. "Tell me the truth, Maddox…did you shoot Detective Beckett?"

Cole Maddox shrugged, as if it was no big deal – because to him, it wasn't. "Yeah, right in the heart." He narrowed his gaze, too. "Is that a problem?"

"Hell yeah, it is! Because she's not dead!"

Maddox scoffed. "Please."

"Think about it." Coonan was still pacing. "If she had died, it would be all over the news. The NYPD would be crawling all over this city like cockroaches looking for whoever pulled that trigger. There would've been an obituary, a funeral, all of it! But there's been…_nothing_. Unless you count her buddies dragging me into a room and trying to get a confession out of me."

Maddox smirked. "And how did that go?"

Coonan shrugged. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"So what do we do?"

"Nothing." Coonan approached Maddox, trying his best to ignore the handgun tucked into the waistband of Maddox's cargo pants. "As it is, we've already violated the terms of the agreement."

"No, we haven't." Maddox shrugged. "She did. The NYPD did. The second they linked your brother's murder to Johanna's, that deal was null and void. There's nothing to protect Detective Beckett now."

"Then you better go finish the job, Maddox." Coonan shook his head. "Because if you don't, she is going to rain hell down over your head, and she won't stop until every last one of us are either behind bars or in the ground."

Maddox laughed, turning to get back into the SUV. "So you're saying Katherine Beckett wants a war?"

"Once she connects all the dots, yeah."

"Then let's not even give her that opportunity."


	13. Chapter 13: Home

_**Author's Note: I feel like I should apologize for the last scene...**_

* * *

><p><em>Two weeks later…<em>

It was all Ricki Castle could do to ignore her phone. Martha and Alexis were getting restless up in the Hamptons, and the teenager in particular was anxious to come back home. Ricki understood their frustration, but with whoever shot Detective Beckett still on the loose, she didn't feel comfortable.

Then again, with Kate about to be released from the hospital – but not before being handed out roughly half a dozen prescriptions, appointments for physical therapy, and the number for a Dr. Carvin Burke – maybe the worst was over for now.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

As soon as Kate emerged from the bathroom, wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans – a look Ricki was taking in for the first time, a look she loved just as much as any other the detective could showcase – Ricki closed the laptop with a smile, closing the distance and wrapping an arm around Kate's waist.

"Good timing." Their noses brushed together. "I just sent _Heat Wave_ to my publisher."

Surprise flashed in the detective's hazel eyes, a smile spreading across her lips. "You finished?"

Ricki shrugged. "The first draft. I got a lot of writing done while you were sleeping these past few weeks."

Hooking her finger into the collar of Ricki's shirt, Kate wrapped her other arm around the writer's shoulder and nipped teasingly at her lower lip. "Can't wait to read it…"

Ricki smiled and pulled Kate even closer for a kiss, but the pair was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. They un-coupled as quickly as they could, both women staring sheepishly at the floor once they saw Jim Beckett walk in.

His grin matched theirs, as if he knew he had come in at an inopportune moment. "Hey, uh…" He cleared his throat and straightened his black tie. "You ladies all set?"

"Almost, dad." Kate sighed, giving the room one last look-around. "So glad to be getting out of here."

Ricki took Kate's hand and squeezed. "How you feeling?"

"Good." The detective sighed. "Antsy. Ready to go home."

Jim cleared his throat. "About that…"

Kate shot her father a look that was equal parts annoyed and confused. "What?"

Ricki squeezed Kate's hand. "Your apartment's still a crime scene. Montgomery has officers surrounding the place day and night."

"So…" Kate shook her head. "Where am I supposed to go?"

Jim shrugged. "There's my cabin."

"And my loft." Ricki kissed the detective's left temple. "It's a secure building."

Kate arched her brows and smirked. "You mean the same loft you barred your mother and daughter from being in because you feared for their safety?" She shook her head with a classic Beckett eye-roll. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were trying to woo me."

"And here I thought I already had." Ricki kissed Kate's temple again before turning her attention to Jim. "This cabin...where is it?"

"The mountains." Jim shrugged. "The very definition of remote. I go out there, my phone won't even work."

Ricki blanched. "That's no good…as tempting as it would be to get away from George for a while, I can't just disappear on him after turning in a manuscript."

"Not to mention, Martha and Alexis would worry sick if they couldn't get a hold of you."

"Right." Ricki gave Kate her best cheeky grin. "My loft it is, then."

Jim smirked and shook his head before approaching the two women. He gave his daughter a hug before placing his hand on Ricki's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "The offer stands, just in case." He leaned in to whisper to Ricki. "Keep her safe."

Ricki smiled and gave Jim a knowing nod, before the two women shared a quick kiss and Kate hoisted a duffel bag over her right shoulder. Their hands interlocked, and Jim led the way out the door.

Ricki and Kate were hand-in-hand the entire way.

* * *

><p><em>Diner in Manhattan…<em>

Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan slipped into a booth in the back corner of a diner whose name neither one of them could pronounce. Esposito glanced over his shoulder to make sure they weren't followed, taking off his gloves before regarding the man sitting across from him.

John Raglan wore a perpetual scowl, accentuated by the bags under his eyes and his bald head. He wore a gray hoodie that looked like it needed a few rounds in the washing machine, and the garment looked like it was about three sizes too big.

He looked pale. Actually, more than pale. If Esposito could think of a word that was worse than pale, that would be the word he'd use to describe the former detective.

"Who's this?" Raglan pointed at Detective Ryan. "I told you to come alone."

"That's my partner." Esposito leaned in. "You wanna talk to me, you gotta talk to him too."

Raglan sighed in resignation, grabbing the steaming mug of coffee in front of him, taking a sip and hissing when the black liquid burned his tongue. He pushed the mug away with a growl, looking out the window.

"Doc says I got six months." Raglan shook his head. "Lymphoma."

"That's real sad." Esposito's tone was flat. "What does that have to do with Johanna Beckett?"

Raglan went silent for several moments, and the detectives exchanged a glance. Esposito was about to get up and leave when Raglan broke into a coughing fit, clearing his throat and looking at them through glassy eyes.

"I made a lotta mistakes in my day." Raglan shook his head. "Beckett's case was one of 'em." He leaned forward, dark eyes dancing around the surroundings again. Raglan's shoulders were hunched, and he clutched at his mug with both hands. "This goes a lot deeper than you know."

"We had a feeling." Ryan spoke for the first time.

Esposito narrowed his gaze. "Does the name Dick Coonan ring a bell?"

Raglan's eyes widened, and that was all the reaction Esposito needed. Actually, he needed an explanation, too, because he couldn't really go on a look he got at a secret meeting with a cop who may or may not have intentionally screwed up a 15-year-old cold case.

Raglan opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a gunshot pierced through the window and sent Ryan and Esposito scrambling. They two detectives crammed under the table, the other patrons also taking cover as Esposito grabbed his service piece. He stood, pointing to the gold badge around his neck.

"NYPD! Everybody down!"

"Javi…"

Esposito turned around to see Raglan face-down on the table, blood pouring from his chest onto the surface. The coffee mug was shattered, spilled coffee pooling on the table and mixing with the retired detective's blood.

Esposito grabbed his phone, clutching it to his ear, his eyes dancing all over the place. "This is Detective Javier Esposito! There's been a shooting at a diner on the corner of 54th and La Salle! Detectives Ryan and Esposito are on the scene, requesting backup and EMTs!"

Ryan hunched over Raglan, his fingers pressed against his neck. The detective looked up at his partner, shaking his head. "Javi."

Esposito shared a nod with Ryan. "Dispatch, please be informed…this is now a homicide."

* * *

><p><em>Ricki Castle's loft…<em>

Kate's eyes lit up as soon as she stepped into Ricki's high-rise apartment, and she couldn't have hid the smile on her face even if she tried. She let Ricki take the bag off of her shoulder, placing it beside the stairwell before crossing to the kitchen.

"Do you want something to drink?"

Kate stepped into the living room, her eyes taking in the décor, studying the bookshelves on either side of the door leading into the writer's office. The red curtains were translucent enough that just the right amount of sunlight poured into the place.

"Kate?"

The detective spun on the balls of her feet. "Hm?"

Ricki stared at Kate with a bemused expression on her face, holding open the door to the fridge. "I asked if you wanted something to drink."

"Oh!" Kate shook her head with a laugh, her cheeks turning red. "No…uh, sorry, I just…" She sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen, shaking her head again. "This place is gorgeous, Castle."

"I have Martha to thank for that." Ricki closed the fridge, placing two bottles of water and a bowl of sliced fruit on the surface of the island. "I have no sense of décor at all."

Stealing a grape despite herself, Kate munched on the piece of fruit and took one more look at her surroundings. She'd only been here for a few minutes, and already the place felt like home. Though she couldn't tell if that was because of the décor or because of the woman standing across from her.

But once Ricki came back around the island and sat next to Kate, chewing on a chunk of watermelon, the detective knew it wasn't about the layout or the furnishings.

"Help yourself to anything in this house." Ricki nudged Kate with her elbow. "You don't even have to ask. The guest bedroom is upstairs, across from Alexis' room."

Kate arched a brow. "And what if I wanna sleep in _your_ room?"

Ricki coughed just as she placed a cantaloupe cube into her mouth, and Kate laughed – because that was exactly the reaction she was going for. Once she composed herself, Ricki chuckled as well, shaking her head.

"I was _trying_ to be a gentlewoman." She leaned in, a playful growl filling Kate's ear. "But if you insist…"

Ignoring the food and the water bottles, Ricki snaked her hand along the small of Kate's back, leaning in so their lips weren't even inches apart before the detective closed that distance with a kiss. It was slow at first, almost tentative, as if they were exploring each other for the first time. They weren't, but given her nearly three-week stay in the hospital, it almost felt like the first.

Ricki whispered Kate's name against her lips, before she felt the detective's tongue teasing along her bottom lip. The writer opened her mouth in kind, the hand she had resting on Kate's back now pressing, fingers kneading.

Kate nipped playfully at Ricki's bottom lip, before the detective reached up, grabbing the collar of Ricki's shirt, before mashing her lips against the author's. It was, by far, the deepest kiss they had shared to this point, and there was a rawness and an urgency to it that none of the others had held.

Ricki couldn't bite back the moan that escaped her lips. She'd dreamt several times of a kiss like this in recent weeks, but as her hands worked up and down Kate's back, before eventually finding station on her backside, Ricki had to admit this went far beyond even _her_ vivid imagination.

Kate broke the kiss just long enough to release a ragged breath, one of the hands on Ricki's collar moving down over her chest. Ricki swallowed hard and bit her lip, and when the two women's eyes met, Ricki knew she couldn't hold back any longer.

She stood, taking Kate's hand and leading her into the office. Her bedroom was adjacent, and once they reached that room, Kate pushed the door shut, bit her lower lip, and nodded once. "Have a seat, Castle."

Ricki did as asked, planting herself on the edge of her bed, her heart racing. She swallowed again, whimpering when she watched the detective grab the hem of her shirt. Ricki started unbuttoning her shirt, her fingers trembling as she laid eyes on Kate's exposed torso.

"Kate…"

"No talking." She smirked, tossing her shirt onto the floor. "No clothes."

Once again, Kate left Ricki speechless. The author had lost count of how many times Kate had done that now, but the sight of the detective, in her bedroom, without her shirt…Ricki made sure to take a moment to study the visual in front of her, her fingers trembling so bad now that they were hopeless on her own shirt.

With a smirk, Kate reached down and unbuttoned Ricki's shirt, pushing it off of her shoulders with a devilish grin. They were wearing matching black bras, and Kate licked her lips as she pushed Ricki onto her back and straddled her, fingers tracing over the writer's collarbone.

Ricki ran her hands up Kate's sides, slowly, making sure she savored every inch of the cop's exposed flesh. Ricki couldn't believe the sight in front of her. She thought she was dreaming. Were her hands not otherwise occupied, Ricki would've pinched herself to make sure.

A phone rang. Both women growled in frustration.

"Damnit…"

"Beckett…"

"No." Kate pulled off of Ricki with a sigh, shaking her head and grabbing the device from her back pocket. "It's Espo. I can't ignore this." Giving Ricki an apologetic cringe, Kate answered. "Beckett."

"Hey, Espo."

Her eyes widened, her face turning white as a sheet. "_What?!_"

The frustration of the moment gone, Ricki sprung to her feet and was at Kate's side. Their hands interlocked as Kate hung up the phone, tears burning the edges of her eyes. The room was dimly lit, but the fresh scar on her chest was the only thing Ricki could see at the moment.

"Kate?" Ricki swallowed. "What is it?"

Kate sniffled, a tear rolling down her cheek. "It's Raglan. He's been murdered."


	14. Chapter 14: Don't Tell Me

By the time Kate Beckett had gotten to the diner, the adrenaline having run its course, she was out of breath. She stopped on the sidewalk, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Ricki stood at her side, holding onto her arm. The detective cringed with each gasp, the expansion of her chest tugging slightly on her scar.

"Easy…" Ricki's voice was a soothing whisper. "Just take it easy, Kate…"

"Detective!" The sound of Captain Montgomery's voice startled both women. "Just what the _hell_ do you think you're doing here?!"

"Sir…" Kate gulped in more air. "Espo called…"

"And I will deal with him accordingly." Montgomery's eyes went back and forth between the two women, and he glanced over his shoulder at the growing media scrum. "You can't be at an active crime scene, Beckett. Not without passing all of your tests."

"Sir, _please_."

"Ryan and Esposito have everything under control." The captain glanced at Ricki. "Take her home."

Montgomery walked away before either Kate or Ricki could protest, approaching the throng of cameras and microphones. The two women exchanged a glance before Kevin Ryan approached them, clutching a small notepad and slightly out of breath.

"Kevin, what happened?"

"Raglan called Esposito yesterday and said he wanted to meet." In full-on detective mode, Ryan glanced down at his notepad. "He heard about your shooting on the news and said he wanted to start making things right."

Ricki and Kate exchanged a confused look before the writer shook her head. "Why?"

"He had cancer. Raglan said he only had six months left."

Kate swallowed back dread, her hand snaking around Ricki's and giving it a squeeze. Ricki squeezed in return. The detective shook her head, knowing in her gut what Raglan was referring to, but she still needed to hear it.

"Ryan…what did he mean by 'making things right'?"

"We're look into—"

"Damnit, Kevin, don't tell me that!" Kate shook her head, gritted her teeth. "Can the cop speak. What did Raglan say?"

Ryan hesitated with a sigh, pocketing his notepad and glancing over his shoulder. He took a step forward, lowering his head and his voice. "He said he made a lot of mistakes in his day…and that your mom's case was one of them."

Ricki frowned. "And?"

"That was it." Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Before he could say anything else…"

Esposito joined the trio with a sigh, flipping through his own notepad before turning to his partner. "CSU found the room. Fourth-floor apartment across the street from the diner. The gun's gone, but maybe they'll luck out and get a fingerprint or a shell casing."

Kate's eyes wandered to the building in question as Esposito spoke, finding the fourth floor and crossing the street over to the diner. A cold realization washed over her, and her hand clamped down painfully over Ricki's as her jaw clenched.

Ricki rubbed Kate's back with her free hand, noticing the detective's change in demeanor. "Hey…"

Kate sucked in a ragged breath, looking at Ricki. "Raglan was killed by a…"

"Yeah." Ricki swallowed hard. "I know."

A block away, a car backfired, and the resulting _bang_ caused Kate to flinch and burrow her face in Ricki's shoulder. The writer wrapped her arms around the detective's shoulders, and Ryan and Esposito exchanged a glance.

Kate sniffled and looked up at the writer. "Ricki…take me home."

Before she could turn to lead Kate away from the diner, Ricki and Esposito exchanged a glance and a nod. By the time Ricki and Kate were on their way to the loft, using Ricki's car service, the writer's phone pinged.

It was a text from Esposito.

_Watch her – she gets too bad, let me know…I can help_

* * *

><p><em>Ricki Castle's loft…<em>

As soon as they finished with dinner – which, to Ricki's surprise, Kate actually ate – the two of them laid in the writer's bed, Kate's head on Ricki's shoulder, Ricki's fingers snaking through Kate's short locks. Their legs tangled together, and Kate took comfort not just in the closeness and the warmth, but the quiet.

There hadn't been nearly enough quiet of late.

"Kate."

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?" Ricki squeezed Kate's shoulder. "Be honest."

The detective sighed and burrowed herself closer against Ricki. She tugged lightly on the collar of Ricki's t-shirt, biting her lip. "I wanna say yes." Her voice cracked, and she sucked in a harsh breath to gather herself. "But…"

"Hey." Ricki kissed the top of Kate's head. "It's okay to not be okay."

"This isn't gonna end, is it?" The detective raised her head to look up at Ricki, resting her palm flat on the writer's chest, the steady thump of her heartbeat soothing. "They're just gonna keep coming until I'm dead, aren't they?"

"No, they won't." Ricki sat up a little bit, pulling the detective against her. "Because we're gonna find them and you're gonna get justice for Johanna."

Kate frowned, tightening her grip on Ricki's shirt. "But I'm not even active. I still have to pass my field test, my psych eval, my gun requalification…"

"And you'll do all of that. In the meantime, Ryan and Esposito will do what they do." Ricki kissed the top of Kate's head again. "They're good cops, Beckett. They're not you, but…they're good."

Kate smiled briefly, and the sight made Ricki's heart flutter all over again. She stroked Kate's hair, resting her chin on the top of the detective's head.

"When's your first appointment with Dr. Burke?"

"Next week."

"You want me to go with you?"

Kate chewed her lower lip and looked up at the writer before a small grin crept onto her face. Letting someone in like this was new to her, and still hard in a lot of ways, but in the short time she'd known Ricki, the author had proven more than reliable. Truth be told, she wanted Ricki by her side for everything, her walls be damned.

"I'd like that." She nuzzled into the crook between Ricki's neck and shoulder. "Don't suppose you wanna go to physical therapy with me tomorrow too?"

"I wish I could." Ricki squeezed Kate's shoulder. "But I have a meeting at Black Pawn tomorrow. They wanna talk about _Heat Wave_."

"Is that bad?"

Ricki shook her head. "Just revisions, possible release dates, ideas for promotion…"

A broad smile crept onto Kate's face and she leaned up to kiss Ricki. "I'm gonna be a book character." She giggled and their noses brushed against each other. "I can't wait."

Ricki's smile matched Kate's. "Neither can I."

* * *

><p><em>New York Correctional…<em>

Roy Montgomery sat in front of a dirty plane of glass, black landline phone attached to the wall to his immediate left. The air was stale, and the captain tugged at the collar of his white dress shirt. Someone needed to get the A/C cranking.

Montgomery exchanged a nod with a guard named Simpson as a gray-haired man in an orange jumpsuit sat on the other side of the glass. He sighed and shook his head when he laid eyes on Montgomery, but he grabbed the receiver on his end.

Montgomery also grabbed his receiver.

"Gary McCallister."

"Roy." McCallister glanced over his shoulder. "I was hoping I'd never see you again."

"Likewise."

McCallister smirked and shook his head. "How's life as captain treating you, Roy?"

"John Raglan is dead."

McCallister's already pale face went even whiter, and he sank back into his chair with a sigh. "I knew he was sick…"

"Not cancer. Sniper."

McCallister leaned forward, his elbows resting on the short table under the glass. His dark eyes narrowed. "Guess that means I'm next, huh?"

Montgomery leaned forward as well, keeping his voice down. "I know Dick Coonan was hired to kill Johanna Beckett. Three weeks ago, a sniper shot Johanna's daughter in the chest. Yesterday, Raglan met with two of my detectives to talk about Johanna's case, and a sniper put him down."

"Someone's cleaning up loose ends."

"Our only saving grace is that Detective Beckett survived." Montgomery smirked at the surprise that flashed in McCallister's eyes. Truth be told, Montgomery wasn't quite sure how Kate survived, either. "You think she'll unravel this mystery?"

"If anyone can…" Montgomery shrugged. "It would be her."

"It's too late for me anyway." McCallister shook his head. "But that's okay. We fucked up bad that night, Roy. It makes sense we'd eventually have to pay the piper. I just hope you don't think you're above that."

Montgomery's eyes narrowed. "I'm not."

"And what if little Katie finds out?" McCallister cocked his head to the side. "You say she'll uncover it all – surely you know that means she'll find out the role you played."

Montgomery was well aware of that. He knew Kate looked up to him – not just the fact that he brought her over to Homicide and nurtured her into the detective she was today. Truth be told, though, much of that was her own doing – her work ethic, her tenacity, her relentless nature.

She didn't give up. She didn't back down.

Roy hated the thought of Kate finding out about his past, how it related to her mother's murder. Of all the things Roy did in his life, that was the one regret he would carry to his grave. He hoped his service as captain made up for that, but he knew better.

"I made peace with this a long time ago, Roy." McCallister shook his head. "Have you?"


	15. Chapter 15: Rude Awakening

Soaked to the bone _was cliché, but it was how Kate felt._

_Her car broke down eight blocks from the precinct, just as the outer trails of Superstorm Sandy were starting to ravage Manhattan. New York was a city ill-equipped to handle a hurricane, and even in the early stages, streets were flooding and several blocks were reporting power outages._

_When the day began, Kate had prayed for no murders – the last thing she needed was to play Beat the Clock with Mother Nature and a case. But now, with the rain pounding her, her drenched clothes clinging to her freezing skin, Kate hoped for something that mundane._

_Because it beat the hell out of running for her life._

_Water splashed with each hurried step. Kate's lungs were on fire; they were filling with oxygen and emptying as quickly as they could, protesting as the detective kept running. She took shortcuts, alleys, any route she could think in her native Manhattan in an effort to shake her pursuer._

_Kate shook her head, trying to keep raindrops out of her eyes. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the accompanying lightning flash nearly blinded her. Fire sirens whined blocks away, and every time Kate's chest expanded with her breathing, she felt the puckered skin of her scar tugging._

_Kate clutched at her chest with a grimace, still on the run. Her fingers wrapped around the ring hanging off a chain around her neck. Her mother had been gone for 15 years, and Kate still yearned for her in times of need._

_Te detective turned into another alley and stopped with a gasp, bringing both hands to her mouth. Detective Javier Esposito was face-down on the pavement, his blood mixing with the puddles of rain surrounding him. A gunshot rang out ahead, and she heard Detective Ryan cry out in pain before something crashed into a dumpster._

_Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. Kate stepped over Esposito's body, convincing herself that she was imagining things. But once she turned the corner and saw Ryan dead in the dumpster, Kate dropped to her knees with an angry sob._

_Thunder drowned out her cries of protest, her hair so wet that it stuck to her forehead. Kate drew her service piece and emptied the clip into the darkness, screaming in fear and anger and anguish as her shoulders jerked with each kickback. Shell casings rained down around her until the gun did little more than click._

_She lowered her weapon, pained whimpers escaping as she gasped for air._

_Other than Mother Nature, all was silent. Kate holstered her weapon, swallowing back dread and fear and bile. A woman's body was tossed from the darkness onto the pavement in front of Kate. The detective gasped and covered her mouth again, seeing Ricki Castle tied up, duct tape over her mouth. Blood trickled down the side of the writer's head, and a shadowy figure approached behind Ricki. A sniper rifle hung over the figure's back, a police-issued handgun pointed directly at Ricki's temple._

"_No!"_

"_This ends tonight…" The figure's voice was jumbled, impossible to trace. "…Detective Heat."_

_She unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt, just so it would stop sticking to her, in the vain hope it would make breathing easier. Kate swallowed again, looking at her unconscious lover before glancing down and catching a glimpse of her scar._

_Another gunshot echoed in the alley._

_The scar started to burn._

_Kate didn't even have a chance to scream._

"CASTLE!"

Kate bolted upright in bed with a scream and a gasp, panting and sweating, her eyes darting frantically back and forth to take in the sight of Ricki Castle's bedroom. The arm snaking around her waist didn't register at first, and Kate swallowed once she realized it was the middle of the night and she was in bed.

The arm around her waist pulled at her, and Kate's hand instinctively went to cover the still relatively fresh scar on her chest. She laid back into the mattress, bursting into tears as soon as her head hit the pillow. The arm around her tightened, and Kate turned over so she faced Ricki, burrowing her face in the other woman's chest.

A loud sob broke the silence of the room. Ricki wrapped both arms around Kate and pressed her face against the side of the detective's head, a hand roaming up to stroke fingers through her short hair.

"Shhh…" Ricki gave her lover a squeeze. "I'm here, Kate. I'm here. It's okay…"

Ricki kept a tight hold on Kate as she sobbed into her shoulder, the writer staring at a random spot on the wall, blinking back tears of her own. She didn't want Kate to see how this was affecting her, how much she hurt whenever Kate hurt – and to tell the truth, Ricki was scared over how easily she felt this way.

They'd known each other little more than a month by this point, and yet Ricki felt more deeply and more passionately for Kate than she had anyone else in her life – including the man with whom she had Alexis. Only college sweetheart Kyra Blaine had come close, but even those feelings paled in comparison to the emotions Kate Beckett inspired within Ricki.

Kate sniffled and drew a ragged breath, clutching at Ricki's shirt. "Castle…"

"Nightmare?"

Kate nodded, crying into Ricki's shoulder as the author planted a series of soft, loving kisses to the top of her head. Despite her best efforts, Ricki felt a couple tears roll down her cheeks, squeezing her eyes shut and holding the detective as tightly as she could without possibly injuring her.

Kate shook in Ricki's arms, her finger clutching warm fabric wherever they could, her sobs slowly changing into soft, whimpering cries, then silent tears. Her shoulders hunched and rocked as she cried, and Ricki wished to whatever deity existed that she could just…take it all away.

Instead, she kissed the top of Kate's head again and rocked her as best she could.

After a few more minutes, Kate's tears dried and she lifted her chin to look at Castle. She saw a stray tear rolling down the writer's cheek, reaching up with her thumb to brush it away. "I'm sorry, Ricki."

"No." Ricki squeezed her even tighter. "Never apologize for how you feel."

Kate burrowed her face into the junction between Ricki's shoulder and neck, closing her eyes with a sigh that was equal parts exhaustion and grief. The two laid there for several minutes, both wide awake now, until Ricki broke the silence again. "Kate, can I ask you something?"

Even in her emotionally raw state, Kate couldn't resist. "I think you just did, Castle."

Ricki smiled and squeezed Kate's shoulder. "Why are you so open with me? I mean, I love that you are, and I don't think I can really explain how grateful I am for it, but…" Ricki sighed, partly wondering if she was saying this right – which was a problem, since she made a living with words. "When we first met, you struck me as a closed-off, private person – and I don't think it was just because you didn't like me."

"You're right." Kate bit her lip and let a finger trail along Ricki's collarbone. "I've had these walls up ever since my mom died. I just…something inside me changed, Castle, and I decided I didn't wanna hurt like that again." She looked up at Ricki. "Even in past relationships, I always had one foot out the door…just in case."

Ricki nodded, understanding far more than the other woman probably realized. Her exploits, between her marriages to Martin and George – and after George – were a large part of her public persona; "bad girl Ricki" was good for book sales. But whereas Kate had built up emotional walls, Ricki hid behind meaningless flings and inappropriate snark.

Really, Martha and Alexis were here emotional tethers.

"What changed?"

"I met you." The two women's eyes met, and Kate actually smiled a little, even as her cheeks were still stained with tear streaks. "Every relationship I had since mom died…the wall was there, but I just…" She shook her head. "I wanted someone who could be there for me and I could be there for them, and we could just…jump into it together."

Ricki ran her fingers through Kate's hair, content to lay in silence for the moment – a rarity for her – to give the detective the space and time to say whatever she needed to say. If Kate had taught Ricki one thing, it was that sometimes, silence was far more meaningful than constant yammering.

"My first year in Homicide…" Kate wiped at her eye and sniffled. "Every moment I wasn't on the clock, I was looking into my mom's case. For a full year, I lived and breathed that file. It got to the point where I needed therapy, and I just…" Kate sat up, taking Ricki's hand into her own. "I realized I was losing myself in that case. I was falling down the rabbit hole. So for the same reason a recovering alcoholic doesn't drink, I stopped."

The allusion to Jim's past wasn't lost on Ricki, but she kept that to herself.

"I realized it was going to destroy me if I didn't let it go, so I let it go."

"And yet it found you all over again."

"Yeah." Kate buried her face in the nook of Ricki's shoulder again, throwing her arms around the other woman's neck. They held each other in silence for several moments, the moonlight casting strings of light along the far wall of Castle's bedroom.

"Promise me something, Castle."

Ricki lifted Kate's chin so they looked into each other's eyes, a tiny, sympathetic smile on her face. "Name it."

"Don't let me get swallowed up in this case again." Kate swallowed, the palm of her hand resting on Ricki's chest, the gentle thump of her heartbeat soothing. "If it looks like I'm about to fall down the hole again, you pull me out. Even if I fight you the whole way."

Ricki pulled Kate into a slow, tender kiss, her eyes fluttering shut before her reluctantly pulled her lips away from the detective's. She stroked Kate's cheek with the back of her thumb. "Promise."

* * *

><p><em>Roy Montgomery's office…<em>

Evelyn was going to kill Roy, what with him still in his office as the clock approached two in the morning. But the paperwork wasn't going to file itself, and there was a mountain of it. He'd spent so much time overseeing both the Jack Coonan case and the investigation into who shot Detective Beckett that he hadn't had much time for anything outside the precinct.

Hell, the signed copy of _Storm Fall_ still sat on his desk. Evelyn's birthday was two days ago.

The precinct was quiet, save for the night janitor making the rounds. They exchanged a wave through the blinds, and as soon as the janitor left, the phone on Montgomery's desk ringed, startling the captain enough that he dropped his pen.

Sighing and straightening his tie, Roy picked up the receiver. "Montgomery."

"It's been a long time, Roy."

Recognition flashed in Montgomery's eyes, and he glanced out the window before reaching over to close the blinds. He swallowed back dread and loosened the tie around his neck. "Yes, it has, Mr. Smith."

If Montgomery were being honest with himself, he wasn't surprised to be taking this phone call. If anything, he had expected it sooner, considering how much Beckett's shooting had been on the news in the days immediately following. He glanced at the blinds again.

"Do you still have the files, Roy?"

"Same place they've been ever since Beckett got out of the Academy." Even though he was alone in the office, Montgomery kept his voice low.

"Then what happened?"

"Our medical examiner noticed similarities in the way Jack Coonan and Johanna Beckett were killed." Montgomery leaned forward, his elbow planted on his desk. "As soon as they discovered that, I sent Beckett home. Two hours later, I get a phone call saying she's been shot."

"Then the deal has been voided." Even as Mr. Smith said those words, words knew Montgomery knew to be true, his heart sank. "They're not going to stop, Roy. He won't let them."

"I know." Montgomery sighed. "He's as relentless as ever."

"Obviously, I can't guarantee her protection anymore. I need your assurance, Roy, that when she comes back, she will not go anywhere near this case. If it's still open by the time Detective Beckett is reassigned, you need to pull her off the case."

"You know that'll only drive her to it even more." Montgomery shook his head. "I can't stop her, Mr. Smith. I never could."

"Then I have to find someone who can."

Before Montgomery could respond, his line went dead.


	16. Chapter 16: Take You Down

**_Author's Note: Please note the rating change. You'll see why midway through this chapter. Enjoy!_  
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* * *

><p><em>Manhattan…<em>

Roy Montgomery flashed his badge at the receptionist, ignoring her protests and pretending he didn't see her remove her headset and lunge out of her chair at him before he pushed through the wooden double doors and approached an ornate desk, where a man sat with his back to him, phone clutched to his ear.

"I understand that, Mr. Secretary, but I can't come back to my constituents without answers." The man sighed. "Your plan constitutes a massive breach of privacy, so big not even the PATRIOT Act covers it. At best, you're looking at this program being logjammed in the courts for the next two years. At worst, everyone on Capitol Hill who's on your side will lose in November and you won't get your precious funding."

The chair swiveled and the man arched his brows when he saw Captain Montgomery standing before him, wearing a scowl and tapping his left foot in impatience. The captain's left hand was twitching in unison with the foot tapping, and the man tried his best to hide the smirk.

"Listen, Mr. Secretary, I'm late for a meeting. Send Ingrid my best and tell the President our 12:30 at Pebble Beach next week is still on." The man hung up the phone with a sigh, sitting back in his seat and straightening his tie. "Captain Montgomery." A self-satisfied smile crossed the man's face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You know _damn_ well why I'm here, Senator." Montgomery's nostrils flare. "We had a deal!"

"And as I recall…you broke it."

"_Me?_" Montgomery leaned forward, his hands resting on the desk, eyes briefly taking in the bronze nameplate that read _William Bracken_. "I'm not the one who called for a sniper to camp outside Detective Beckett's window."

"And I'm not the one who connected Jack Coonan's murder to Johanna Beckett's." Bracken stood, buttoning his suit jacket and emerging from behind his desk to meet Montgomery head-on. "If you'd have kept that bitch on a shorter leash, we wouldn't be having the conversation."

Montgomery grabbed Bracken by the lapel and jerked him forward, biting back the desperate urge to send him back to Washington with a black eye and a broken nose. "And if you weren't so desperate to fund your little war chest, we never would've had to strike a deal in the first place."

Bracken chuckled and shook his head, grabbing Montgomery by the wrists and pulling his hands off of his suit. "Please, Roy…are we really gonna play this game?"

"It's no game…you've caused that family enough pain, and I will see to it that you go down for it."

"Even if it means taking yourself out in the process?"

Montgomery shrugged. "I always figured my days were numbered. Hell, it's a miracle I made it to Captain." He sighed, glancing out the window to take in the New York skyline. "Yeah, releasing the file would condemn me to spending the rest of my life in jail, but you know what, maybe that's how it should be. And if it means you go down, too…well, I can't make up for my part in this, but if I can at least give Beckett that closure…"

"She'll hate you no matter what." Bracken shook his head. "You brought her into Homicide. You groomed her. Hell, you were busy playing father while her own dad was burying himself in a bottle. So now she's gonna find out you had a hand in this all along, that you knew for all these years who really killed her mother, and you think she's gonna pat you on the back and say thank you?"

"No." Montgomery approached Bracken again. "Seeing you led away in cuffs will be all the thanks I need. I'm releasing the file, William. In 24 hours, your career will be over."

Bracken smirked. "You don't have the balls…"

For the first time since barging in, the anger left Montgomery's face. Instead, he smirked, shook his head, and smiled. A genuine smile, lighting up his aging features. "Guess we'll find out together, won't we?"

* * *

><p><em>Ricki Castle's loft…<em>

Kate's advance copy of _Heat Wave_ sat on the dresser, a bookmark just over halfway through marking her place. She had run out for an errand, which Ricki hadn't noticed due to being stuck on a conference call with George. Well, it wasn't an errand so much as a surprise – one borne from the pages of Ricki's own book.

Anticipation fluttered within Kate as she returned to the loft with a plastic bag in-hand. She really wanted to see the look on Ricki's face when she caught wind of the detective's surprise, and she was glad to hear through the door to Ricki's office that the conference call was over.

Without any further hesitation, Ricki grabbed the contents of the bag and clutched them against her chest as she crossed from the kitchen, along the living room, and into Ricki's office before slipping into her bedroom. Ricki had her back to her, picking up the book on the dresser with a bemused smirk.

"Hey." Kate mocked protest. "I wasn't finished with that yet."

So startled, was Ricki, that she barely noticed what Kate had in her hands at first. But recognition eventually took over, and Ricki smiled knowingly when she saw the bottle of tequila and a couple of limes clutched in the detective's grasp.

"I see someone made it to page 105…"

Kate flashed a knowing smile, pausing to place the bottle and the limes on the other dresser. By the time she finished, though, Ricki was on her, devouring her into a deep, frantic kiss. Their hands clawed at each other clothes, their mouths clashing together in a mess of lips, tongue, and teeth. It took a while to find their rhythm, and by the time they did, Ricki had Kate on her back and lifted her shirt up over her head.

"As much as I would love for life to imitate art right now…" Ricki's voice was little more than a breathy growl at this point, her lips hovering inches above Kate's chest. "I do have other plans for you first."

Before Kate could respond, she felt the writer's lips kissing a trail over her collarbone. She gasped and tossed her head back, each brush of Ricki's lips sending tremors down her spine. Kate somehow managed to peel her shirt the rest of the way off before unhooking her bra and tossing it to the floor – though truth be told, she didn't recall doing it.

Ricki's lips left Kate's collarbone and found station between her breasts, taking a moment to gently pay homage to the scar – the tiny knot of still-healing skin that signaled so much of what they had endured together in such a short time.

Kate undid Ricki's ponytail, shivering when the writer's dark locks tickled her bare skin. Tears burned the edges of Kate's eyes before Ricki reached up to cup her breasts and squeeze them. They stared at each other in awe and reverence, and Kate didn't notice that one of Ricki's hands had fallen between her legs until she felt her jeans being unbuttoned.

Before Kate could react, she felt Ricki's fingers teasing her through her underwear. Her hips rose off the mattress in automatic response, and it was all Kate could do not to cry out with relief. Her hips grinded against Ricki's fingers, the extra friction from the fabric nearly enough to carry Kate over the edge.

She wouldn't admit it, but Kate had been wanting this for a while – pretty much the moment she was released from the hospital. Her fingers snaked through Ricki's hair, and her hips were moving more frantically once she felt the writer tugging her jeans and her underwear down to her knees.

Ricki was still fully clothed, and while Kate wanted to change that, the feeling of Ricki's tongue between her legs rid the detective of anything even remotely resembling rational thought. She growled the writer's name, her fingers becoming a fist in Ricki's brown hair. She thrust her hips against Ricki's tongue, biting her lower lip and staring.

Ricki spread Kate's legs with both hands, moaning the detective's name against one of her inner thighs before her tongue went to work once more. Kate whimpered and couldn't stop the twitching of her legs if she tried. In fact, she started twitching and shaking even more, every pass of the writer's tongue bringing her closer to the edge.

"Castle…" Kate grit her teeth, her toes curling. "God, Castle, you're gonna—"

The sensation snuck up on Kate, and before she could finish her thought, her entire body bucked off the bed and she tried her best not to scream as loud as she probably could've, both hands now tangled in Ricki's hair as Kate rode the wave of her release, every swipe of the writer's tongue sending an aftershock of pleasure along her entire body.

Kate whimpered and fell back onto the mattress as Ricki kissed her way back up her body, stopping once again to pay special attention to the scar. Once Ricki's lips met Kate's again, they both moaned their approval, and Kate reached a hand between them to slide down the front of Ricki's jeans.

Ricki gasped, breaking the kiss.

"Why, Detective Beckett…are you after something?"

Ricki gasped against when Kate's fingers found what they were after, cupping the writer's warm sex in her palm. A knowing grin splayed across Kate's flushed face, especially when she felt the throbbing warmth in her hand. "Already got it…"

* * *

><p><em>The next morning…<em>

Kate was face-down in Ricki's bed, their naked bodies draped over each other. Pillows and bed sheets were strewn about the floor, and both women were still coated in a light sheen of sweat. Sunlight had barely started to peak through the windows when Kate's phone pinged.

Kate stirred with a groan of protest before Ricki's arm grabbed her shoulder to keep her in place. The phone dinged again, and though she knew better, it felt more insistent this time.

Again, Kate grunted, lifting her head off the mattress.

"Ignore it, babe." Ricki rolled over and wrapped both arms around Kate's waist. "It's not even seven in the morning yet."

"Murder doesn't run on a clock." Kate rubbed her eyes and blinked, her short hair a mess.

"You're also not reinstated yet."

Kate sighed and slipped out of Ricki's grasp. "Ugh, don't remind me…" She looked over her shoulder before grabbing her phone, smiling at Ricki. The smile turned devilish before Kate glanced at the screen on her phone, her brow furrowing.

Ricki sat up. "What is it?"

"It's Espo." Kate shook her head. "He says we should turn on the news."

Both women got out of bed and slung their respective robes over their shoulders before grabbing each other's hands and wandering into Ricki's office. They had to step over the empty tequila bottle and several lime peels to do so.

Ricki turned on the flatscreen monitor in the corner, rubbing sleep out of her eyes before tossing the remote onto the desk with a yawn. She cringed at the smell of alcohol on her breath.

_Breaking news out of Manhattan this morning, as WNBC has exclusively obtained copies of files and reports dating back over 15 years, files that implicate Senator William Bracken and three former New York City police detectives in a scheme in which the detectives abducted suspected members of organized crime families and held them hostage for ransom. With more, we turn to our own Stephanie Blalock in our Midtown studios._

Ricki and Kate exchanged a furrowed glance.

_Thanks, Tom. According to these reports, three detectives spent a three-year period from 1997 to 1999 abducting and holding members of organized crime hostage for ransom. It was an effort so vast, so coordinated, that five of the city's biggest crime families called a truce. These reports also implicate Senator Bracken, claiming that he became aware of the operation and blackmailed the detectives for a cut of their ransom money._

_These files show that Bracken, who was New York City's Assistant District Attorney at the time, used that money to fund his first Congressional campaign. These files also reveal a money trail from the Senator to several unknown persons. Investigators are looking into those leads as we speak._

_We reached out to the NYPD for comment and have not heard back. Of the three detectives in question, only one is still employed with the NYPD. John Raglan was recently killed by an unknown assailant, Gary McCallister is serving a life sentence in state prison, and Roy Montgomery currently serves as captain of the Twelfth Precinct._

_We'll have more on this story as it develops._

By the time Ricki tore her eyes from the flatscreen, she could see Kate's knees buckling. She wrapped an arm around the detective's waist to steady her, and both women slowly knelt onto the floor. Kate wrapped her arms around Ricki's waist, and the writer just held her, brushing her fingers through Kate's hair.

"Castle…"

"I'm right here, Beckett."

The two women glanced at the screen again, just in time for Tom's dour expression to grace the monitor. _This just in…the New York City Corrections Office is announcing that former detective Gary McCallister was found dead in his cell this morning. Official cause of death has not yet been announced._

Ricki shook her head. "What the fuck is going on…?"

Kate unwrapped herself from Ricki, her eyes red and her lower lip quivering. "I think I know…"


	17. Chapter 17: Trust

_**Author's Note: I will be out of town with no internet access from Dec. 23-27, so there won't be any story updates through those days. I hope to post another chapter or two between now and then, and then resume after the holiday. Thanks for the support! Keep reading and reviewing, and I hope everyone has a great holiday!**_

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><p><em>Captain Montgomery's office…<em>

The door to Roy Montgomery's office opened and slammed shut before either Montgomery or his guest – a black woman with straight hair down to her shoulders and a blazer that matched her dark eyes – could react. Montgomery looked up in time to see Kate Beckett, her face red with rage, lunging over his desk to reach for him.

"You _bastard!_" Her words echoed in the office, and if the looks from the uniformed officers in the bullpen were any indication, they carried a lot further than that. "How could you?!"

The woman stood. "Detective Beckett—"

Kate grabbed Montgomery's tie, her teeth gnashing together. 'You _knew_!" She lost her grip on Montgomery's tie when a pair of arms grabbed Kate by her shoulders, pulling her back away from the desk. "All this time, you _knew_ who was responsible and you didn't tell me!"

Ricki led Kate to the sofa across from Montgomery's desk, and she watched as the captain sighed, closed his eyes, and stared down at the surface. The woman standing to Montgomery's right moved her confused glare from Kate to the captain, shaking her head.

"Anyone like to tell me what this is all about?"

Montgomery sighed again. "Detective, Castle…this is Victoria Gates. She's from Internal Affairs. In light of…recent allegations, she's here to inform me that the department is formally opening an investigation into my years of service."

"They should add murder to the list!"

Victoria gasped. "De_tec_tive!"

Ricki grabbed and squeezed Kate's shoulder. "Hey…"

Kate yanked herself away from her lover's touch, standing and turning to stare at Ricki with tears in her eyes. "What, you on _their_ side or something?!"

Ricki stood, sucking in a deep breath. "No. I'm holding you back. Like you asked me to."

Kate huffed and shook her head, taking Ricki by the hand and giving it a squeeze in apology before turning to Gates and Montgomery. She inhaled sharply. "You wanna investigate Roy? Start with Bob Armen."

Gates frowned. "The undercover FBI agent?"

Montgomery sighed. "I think it's time Castle left the office."

Ricki approached the desk, folding her arms over her chest and trying not to let the captain see the anger in her eyes. Despite everything, she had grown sort of fond of Montgomery, though at the moment, she wanted to reach across the desk and wring his neck for the way he betrayed Kate.

"I'm not going anywhere, Roy. Unless you want LT to walk me out of here at gunpoint."

Kate approached the woman standing next to Montgomery. "Armen was the last casualty of the mafia ransom scheme. Raglan, McCallister, and…" Her eyes narrowed. "_Roy_ killed him, and once they discovered Armen was FBI, they tried to pin the murder on a mobster named Joe Pulgatti."

Gates' eyebrows raised. "And you know this how, Detective?"

"The last case my mother was working on…" Kate sucked in a ragged breath. "Pulgatti called her from prison, professing his innocence. He'd called every lawyer he could find, and my mother was the only one who would listen to him."

"Johanna was killed," Ricki interjected, "in the same alley where Armen was killed."

"Captain Montgomery." Gates shook her head. "_Roy_." He flinched and looked up at her. "Is this true?"

Unable to look any of the other three people in his office in the eye, Montgomery grabbed at the knot of his tie, loosening it with a clearing of his throat before finally nodding. He heard Kate approach the desk again, and he felt her presence when she leaned forward so her face was inches from his.

Montgomery forced himself to meet her gaze, tears in her eyes, their natural hazel color darkened in anger.

"I'm only gonna ask you this once, Roy." Her voice shook, her hands curled into fists. "Did you kill my mother?"

"No."

"But you know who did." When Montgomery fell silent, she grabbed his tie again. "Tell me."

"I can't do that." Montgomery shook his head, tears in his eyes. "I give you a name, I know you'll go right at him. I might as well just kill you where you stand."

"You know I'm gonna find out anyway."

"Detective." Gates leaned over the desk. "Need I remind you that you've not yet completed your requirements for reinstatement. So why don't you and your writer friend go home, you work on getting back, and _maybe_ I'll forgive this little stunt today."

Kate turned to regard Gate, before she felt Ricki's hands on her shoulders, turning her away from the woman and leading her to the door. "Stand down, Beckett." Castle glared at both Montgomery and Gates. "You got what you came for."

Kate sniffled and nodded, letting Ricki open the door for her. When the detective left the office, Ricki paused at the doorway, still regarding Gates and Montgomery with a shake of her head.

"Yes, Ms. Castle?"

"Oh, nothing." She flashed the most sarcastic smile she could muster. "Just trying to decide how messy I should make the captain's death in my next book."

* * *

><p><em>Outside…<em>

As soon as Kate and Ricki left the precinct, Kate stopped and flung her arms around her lover's shoulders. Ricki yelped in surprise before wrapping Kate into a warm embrace of her own, burying her face in the junction between the detective's neck and shoulder.

"Thank you." Kate's voice was barely above a whisper. "I almost did something horrible."

Ricki squeezed Kate. "Of course."

Kate loosened her grip on Ricki just enough to look into the writer's eyes, cocking her head to the side. "I'm sorry for snapping at you in there."

Ricki shook her head. "Already forgotten."

"It's just…" Kate shook her head, clasping hands with Ricki as the pair started walking down the sidewalk. "I can't believe, all these years it was right there in front of me. I trusted him, Castle. He was the one who brought me to Homicide."

The two walked in silence for a few blocks, but as they crossed the street – to the chagrin of at least five taxi cabs, despite the "walk" sign clearly being on – Ricki shook her head and gave Kate's hand a squeeze.

"Am I right to have a bad feeling about Gates?"

"She's…got a reputation." Kate sighed. "They call her 'Iron Gates.' She's _the_ definition of by-the-book."

"God help me if she ever becomes captain, then."

For the first time that day, Kate laughed. She leaned against Ricki as they walked, hand-in-hand, chewing on her lower lip. "Hey, Castle?"

"Hm?"

"I know we said we were gonna go dress shopping today for your book party in a few weeks, but…"

Ricki stepped in front of Kate, cupping the detective's face in her hands. "Hey, if you wanna wait after everything that's happened today, that's okay. I'll completely understand."

A warm smile crept onto Kate's face. "No, I still wanna do that. Just…can we make another stop first?"

Ricki's smile matched the detective's. "Name it."

* * *

><p><em>The cemetery…<em>

As soon as she saw the rows upon rows of tombstones, Ricki had a feeling she knew what Kate was doing. The writer sucked in a deep breath in hopes of calming her suddenly fragile nerves, swallowing back her anxiety and giving Kate's hand a squeeze.

She remembered meeting a lover's parents being a nerve-wracking affair, but…like this?

Kate weaved through the stones, running completely off memory. Some of the stones were brand new, fresh dirt resting at their base. Others were cracked, showing their age. Others still had been erected so long that large chunks of them were missing. Some stones had beautiful floral arrangements. Others were depressingly bare.

When Kate stopped, Ricki felt her heart stop. So overwhelmed with the moment, was Ricki, that she had to tear her eyes away from the stone.

_Johanna Beckett_

_Vincit Omnia Veritas_

_February 4__th__ 1951_

_January 9__th__ 1999_

"Kate…"

"That was always one of her favorite sayings." Kate's voice was low, belying the vice-like grip she had on Ricki's hand. The writer could feel the trembling in Kate's extremity, and she made sure she stayed close.

"Truth conquers all."

Kate looked at Ricki with a sad smile, and the two women rested their heads together, sharing a quiet moment in front of Johanna's tombstone. Kate released a shaky breath, reaching up with her free hand to tug on the chain around her neck, her fingers caressing the ring attached to it.

"We're close, mom." Kate's voice cracked, and Ricki squeezed her hand. "The mobster hostage ring you were investigating has been all over the news, and I just know it's gonna lead me to whoever killed you."

Kate's lower lip quivered, and she felt Ricki's arms snake around her waist from behind. The writer pressed herself tightly against Kate, and the two women's heads touched again. Kate closed her eyes and let her fingers trail over Ricki's forearm.

"I'm in love, mom."

Ricki's eyes flashed open, and on instinct, she tightened her hold on Kate. Sure, Kate had told Ricki a couple times that she loved her, but hearing the words in _that_ exact order, spoken with _that_ much reverence – and spoken to _this_ woman – it was overwhelming in all the best possible ways.

Ricki kept quiet, her ears eagerly awaiting whatever nuggets were coming next.

"The last person in the world I would've expected…" Kate shook her head with a soft laugh, the sort of sound that made Ricki's heart flutter. "But Ricki's so sweet and caring and funny…she's been my rock through everything."

Ricki found herself blinking back tears, squeezing the woman in her arms again and nuzzling against her cheek. The writer closed her eyes, taking in a deep, shaky breath before kissing Kate's cheek. "Can I say something?"

She kissed Kate's cheek again when the detective nodded.

"Uh…Mrs. Beckett…" She smiled sheepishly when Kate lightly headbutted her.

"Call her Johanna."

Ricki felt her cheeks go hot, briefly averting her gaze. "Johanna…from everything I've heard, you were an amazing woman, and I'm amazed every day by the woman you helped raise. Your daughter is bright, tenacious, warm, and she has shown me things I never knew existed."

The two women drew even closer to each other, though they were already wrapped up in each other's warmth. They both looked at the tombstone before them, and Kate seemed to ignore the tear rolling down her cheek.

"Jim told me how much my books meant to you, and…" Ricki sighed, shaking her head. "I can't begin to tell you what that means. I'm used to people liking my books, but I'm not used to my books giving them any meaning."

Kate turned in Ricki's arms, cupping the writer's face in her hands before leaning in for a kiss. It was a slow, loving one, as both women closed their eyes and let their lips take their time in exploring each other. Ricki tightened her grasp again, as if she were afraid Kate would float away if she didn't keep her grounded.

By the time the kiss broke, and the two women rested their foreheads together, they were both softly crying.

"I'm in love, Johanna…" Ricki's voice caught in her throat. "I'm in love with your daughter."

Kate huffed a laugh as a couple more tears fell from her eyes, and Ricki reached up to brush them away. She kissed the detective again, then smiled. "Thank you for bringing me here, Kate."

Kate brushed her nose against Ricki's before they locked hands and started walking again. "Thank you." She squeezed Ricki's hand. "For everything."

They left the cemetery in silence, wandering along the sidewalk to begin their trek for a dress for the upcoming _Heat Wave_ launch party. The silence was comfortable, both women recovering from the rampant, all-over-the-place emotions of the day. By the time they reached the first stop in their dress search, Kate stopped.

"Ricki…"

"Yeah?"

"I finished _Heat Wave_." The smile on her face grew. "It's fantastic, Castle."

Ricki smiled so wide that her cheeks started to hurt. Not that she didn't enjoy praise when it came her way, but for the inspiration for her latest work to speak so highly of said work…who cared if that reviewer over at the _Post_ wound up hating it – like they did her last several entries?

"Just one problem…" Kate chewed on her lower lip. "I didn't see a dedication."

Ricki smiled knowingly. "That's because I haven't written it yet." She stole a kiss before walking into the store. "The dedication is always the last thing I write, just before the first editions go to print."

As she took Kate's hand, Ricki knew exactly what she'd write.


	18. Chapter 18: Reset Button

_**Author's Note: I hope to post Chapter 19 tomorrow before my little hiatus, then resuming once I'm back on the 27th. Keep reading and reviewing!**_

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><p><em>Ricki Castle's loft…<em>

Kate Beckett was all smiles by the time they returned to Ricki's loft; not that she had forgotten the developments of the day, the realization that at worst, Roy Montgomery was a crooked cop who withheld important information regarding a cold case. But Kate found comfort in spending time with Ricki, first in front of her mother's tomb and then as they looked at dresses for the upcoming _Heat Wave_ launch party.

She couldn't wait to wear the dress they picked out. Kate didn't want the tailor to take a week to fine-tune the fabric and the measurements; she wanted the dress in her closet _now_.

Her smile disappeared, though, once they were inside, turning her gaze back to Ricki. "Um, Castle…"

Ricki pocketed her keys with a look of curiosity…one that disappeared once she looked up, just in time to notice – and catch – the redhead that had made a beeline straight for her. She caught her daughter with a forced exhale, leaning down to kiss Alexis on the top of her head. "Alexis!"

"Mom!" Alexis burrowed her face in the crook of her mother's neck.

Martha had wandered over to join the trio, pulling Kate into a hug of her own. Kate frowned in confusion, even as her hand patted against Martha's back. "You're back…"

Martha broke the hug with a flighty, dismissive wave of her hands. "After what we saw on the news this morning, we knew we couldn't stay away any longer." The older redhead patted Kate's shoulder. "Anything you need, Katherine. Just ask."

A warm smile crept onto Kate's face, particularly at the formal use of her name. "Thank you, Martha."

Martha turned to Ricki. "Not to mention, Alexis' finals start next week. Her teachers have been quite accommodating of late, but I don't think they would excuse missing those."

Alexis gave Ricki a squeeze and a grateful nod before reluctantly pulling away. "Can't go to high school if I don't pass these tests."

Ricki huffed a laugh. "Leave it to me to have the one teenager in the world who _wants_ to go back to school after a couple weeks off."

Kate leaned in and kissed Ricki on the cheek, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'll be in your office, Castle. I need to call my dad."

Ricki nodded and watched Kate disappear into her office, shaking her head – both in awe of the woman who had decided to open her heart for her and in apprehension over everything that had happened.

To call Ricki's life a whirlwind since meeting Kate would've been an understatement. The Tisdale case, the emotional rocky road they wandered – thanks in large part to Ricki's own personal shortcoming. Their connection afterward – it was almost as if someone had pushed a big reset button to let Kate and Ricki try again.

The decision to shadow Kate. The creation of Nikki Heat. A seemingly innocuous murder of an Irish mob enforcer that wound up throwing both Kate and Ricki head-on into the Johanna Beckett cold case.

The realization that Roy Montgomery wasn't all he claimed to be.

To say nothing of the fact that not quite one month ago, a sniper bullet pierced Kate Beckett's heart. Ricki was so convinced she had lost Kate no sooner than she had found her, but somehow, some way, Kate survived. Ricki had no doubt – if Kate could survive a bullet to the heart, she'd pull through this ordeal as well.

Jim Beckett's words echoed in the writer's head. _Beckett women are tough…_

"How's she doin', kiddo?" Martha ran her hand up and down Ricki's back.

Ricki sighed and sank herself into the couch, shaking her head. "Amazing, extraordinary, mind-blowing." The writer shook her head with a sideways grin, looking toward Alexis when the younger redhead sat beside her.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." Ricki smiled at her mother. "She's handling all of this far better than I would. Hell, I'm experiencing all of this on the periphery, and I've been on the verge of tears for the past few days."

Alexis rested her chin on her mother's shoulder, sympathy in her matching blue eyes.

Ricki kissed the top of her daughter's head again, before sitting back with a sigh. "I just…I want to do everything for her, but there's nothing I _can_ do. I can't bring back the trust she lost in Roy, I can't make the scar on her chest heal, I can't go out there and find the man who killed her mother…"

Martha sat on the other side of Ricki as she spoke, noticing the tears building in her daughter's eyes. Both Martha and Alexis took Ricki's hands and squeezed them. "Rebecca…you're doing plenty right now."

Ricki shot her mother a questioning look.

"You're there for her. I guarantee that means more to her than you know."

"She loves you, mom." Alexis kissed Ricki's temple. "I can see it when she looks at you. And we all know by now how you feel about her."

"You're basing an entire novel on her, darling." Martha shrugged. "If that doesn't scream love, I don't know what does."

Ricki shook her head. "I just want it all to _stop_." A couple tears spilled from her eyes. "It seems like ever since we met, it's been one thing after another after another. I just want it to stop so we can…so we can be normal."

Martha shrugged. "Maybe all of this…" She waved her arms dramatically over her head. "…_stuff_ is what makes the two of you work so well."

Before Ricki could answer, Kate emerged from her office, pocketing her phone and giving the three women on the couch a smile. The smile faded, though, when she saw the wet streaks on Ricki's face, her eyes narrowing.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah." Ricki stood and took Kate by the hand. "Just…hell of a day."

"Tell me about it." Kate smiled and gave Ricki's hand a squeeze. "Dad said to tell you hi, and he wants to know if you'd like to have dinner with us next week."

"Name when and where, Beckett."

Ricki liked Jim, and to be perfectly frank, she was relieved that Jim seemed to be fond of her. Ricki had her share of relationships over the years where the other person's parents hated her – if they never spoke of Kyra Blaine's mother again, it would be too soon – but Jim was good people.

The fact that Ricki got along with him was a massive relief.

Kate glanced over Ricki's shoulder. "He also asked if you guys could come."

Martha smiled. "We'd love to, darling."

Ricki's smile grew at that, and she tugged on Kate's hand. The detective turned her attention back to Ricki with an arched brow. "What?"

"Nothing." Ricki stole a quick kiss. "It's just…almost like we're a family."

* * *

><p><em>The next day…<em>

Kate's heart thudded in her chest, and her grip on Ricki's hand was like a vice. Their palms were sweaty at this point, but the writer kept her hold on Kate's hand, keeping her grounded as they sat in the waiting area, Kate's left leg bouncing up and down.

This was to be her first appointment with Dr. Carvin Burke, the NYPD-assigned psychiatrist Kate had to see in order to complete her psych evaluation. It was but one step in getting her badge and gun back, and Kate had dreaded it the entire morning.

She glanced at Ricki, chewing on her lower lip.

"Hey…" Ricki leaned in with a whisper. "You'll be okay."

"I just wish you could go in with me."

"I looked into Dr. Burke…" Ricki smiled when Kate shot her a questioning look. "You forget all the contacts I have. Anyway…he's good. Like, _damn_ good. He's calm, doesn't judge, and more often than not, he'll just sit back and let you talk."

"If I didn't know any better…" Kate flashed a teasing smile. "I'd swear _you've_ been to see him."

"Well, Mother _does_ say I need to see a shrink."

Kate laughed before the receptionist interrupted by announcing that Dr. Burke was ready for her. The detective sighed to gather her bearings, looking at Castle before the two women kissed and Ricki squeezed her hand.

I'll be right out here. Love you."

"Love you."

Kate entered Dr. Burke's office with a sigh, immediately noticing the degrees hanging on the wall and a medal of commendation over his desk. Dr. Carvin Burke sat cross-legged in an ornate chair, wearing a baby blue turtleneck and gray slacks. The light shined off his bald head, and he offered a warm smile.

"Detective Beckett." His voice was so deep, Kate thought she felt the vibration in her chest. "Please have a seat."

She sighed as she sank into the couch, letting herself sink into the cushions. It was almost as comfortable as the sofa in Ricki's loft – but far less colorful.

"Your file states that you've been in therapy before." Dr. Burke's voice held no judgment. "Did you find it helpful."

"I did." Kate nodded. "I was…spiraling, I guess. Needed to right myself."

Dr. Burke nodded and jotted something into the yellow legal pad sitting on his lap. "And what about now, Detective? Do you feel…right?"

Kate shook her head and shrugged. "Honestly…I don't know. It's been a hell of a month."

"The shooting."

"More than that." Kate shook her head. "I recently found out my captain was involved in a conspiracy several years ago that may or may not be connected to my mother's murder. I've spent the last few weeks unable to do my job, because of all the hurdles I have to jump. I'm having trouble sleeping because every time I do, I have nightmares."

Dr. Burke nodded. "And yet…you seem remarkably together, Detective. Most people in your position would be more unstable – and justifiably so."

A warm smile spread onto Kate's face, and she ducked her head.

The smallest of smiles tugged onto Dr. Burke's face, despite his efforts to keep whatever personal feelings he had in-check. He dropped his pen and leaned in. "You're in love."

Kate smirked. "Is it that obvious?"

"In my professional opinion?" Dr. Burke smiled. "Yes."

Despite the blush creeping into her cheeks, Kate sat up a little straighter. "Castle has been…amazing these past few weeks."

Dr. Burke's eyebrows arched. "Castle."

Kate nodded, smiling despite the fact that her face was probably beet-red at this point. She honestly felt like she was back in high school, gossiping about her latest crush. Only difference was, this definitely wasn't the lead actor in the school's Christmas play.

"Let me ask you something, Detective." Dr. Burke cleared his throat. "How genuine are these feelings you have for Castle?" Trying his best to ignore the anger flaring in the woman's hazel eyes, he put up his hands. "A lot of people, after experiencing a life-altering trauma, may experience strong feelings of attachment to people in the aftermath."

Kate swallowed the outburst she wanted to go on, shaking her head. "I loved Ricki _before_ I got shot. We are not together because I need her pity."

"My apologies." Dr. Burke sank back in his seat. "Now…how much do you remember about your shooting?"

"Everything."

"Really." Dr. Burke looked surprised – at least, that was what Kate thought she saw in his eyes before it disappeared and he went back into stone-face mode. "No memory loss whatsoever?"

Kate shook her head. "None."

"Do you think that's where the nightmares come from?"

Kate nodded. "They're always about someone getting shot. Sometimes it's me, sometimes it's my partners at the Twelfth…" The detective swallowed. "Sometimes it's Ricki…"

"How often do you have these nightmares?"

"My last one was three nights ago." Kate shook her head. "They're been a lot less frequent since I got out of the hospital."

"Have you returned to the site of the shooting?"

"Can't. It's still a crime scene."

"I want to meet again next week. Same day and time." Dr. Burke stood, approaching the couch. Kate stood in kind, and the two shook hands. "In my professional opinion, you're not quite ready for active duty again, but you're close. Another session or two, and I should be able to sign your waiver."

A mixture of relief and disappointment sank in for Kate, but she smiled it away and nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Burke."

Stepping out of Dr. Burke's office, Kate smirked when she saw Ricki sitting in the waiting room, clearly engrossed in her smartphone. The writer's tongue stuck out as her finger swiped over the screen, and Kate stole a glance – unable to hide the laugh when she saw her lover getting entirely too worked up over the latest _Angry Birds_.

"How old are you, Castle?"

Standing and pocketing her phone, Ricki stammered and smiled before clearing her throat and straightening her posture. "Old enough to play that trick with the tequila and the limes again, Beckett." She kissed Kate. "How was it?"

Beckett laughed against Ricki's lips, her ears growing hot. "I have to come back next week." She rolled her eyes as their hands linked together and they walked out of the waiting area. "Dr. Burke's not ready to sign my permission slip yet."

"But it wasn't _that_ bad, was it?"

"You mean other than the part where he questioned whether or not I really loved you?" Annoyance dripped from her words, but Kate's eyes were lit up when she looked at Ricki. "Nah, he was okay."

Ricki smirked. "No signed copy of _Heat Wave_ for him." They stepped onto the elevator. "I don't know about you, but I could use a milkshake right now."

Kate practically beamed. "My mom always took me for ice cream after I had to go to the doctor as a kid."

"Well, then let me play Dr. Castle and take you to Remy's."

Kate brushed her nose against Ricki's before the two women kissed. She smiled after the kiss, her fingers trailing over Ricki's jawline. "So long as you promise to play doctor some more once we get home."


	19. Chapter 19: Badge of Honor

**_Author's Note: Here's the last chapter before my brief holiday hiatus! I'm hoping to post another chapter of both "Paths Not Taken" and "At Least I Got a Goodbye" today as well. See you all on the 27th! Happy Holidays!_**

* * *

><p><em>Ricki Castle's loft…<em>

Sweat matted Kate's hair to her forehead, and she huffed an exhausted breath that belied the playful grin on her face. Her legs tangled with Ricki's, sunlight peering through the window and illuminating her naked body. Her fingers traced the swell of Ricki's breast before the detective pinched the writer's hard nipple.

Ricki gasped and bucked off the mattress in response, biting her lower lip as her left hand disappeared between Kate's legs, her middle two fingers instantly sinking into the detective with ease.

Kate gasped and growled into a long, grinding kiss. "Don't know too many doctors who do that."

"You're a special case, Beckett." With a flick of Ricki's wrist, Kate shuddered and bit back a loud moan. Sure, they were downstairs at the opposite end of the loft from Alexis' room upstairs, but Kate didn't want to chance her voice carrying.

She started grinding against Ricki's hand, letting her most sensitive spot rub against the writer's palm. Ricki started pumping her arm in rhythm, sitting up so her teeth could graze along the nape of Kate's neck. Kate grabbed Ricki's shoulders, gritting her teeth and shuddering at the sensation.

She dug her nails into Ricki's shoulder, and the writer responded by thrusting her fingers quicker and with more force.

"Fuck, Ricki…"

The sensation steadily built within Kate, and she bit her lip in anticipation of falling over the edge. She tried to keep the contact between her throbbing nub and Ricki's hand as long as she could, her hips a blur as they rocked back and forth – until the detective bent down, burying her face in Ricki's shoulder to muffle the scream she knew was coming.

And sure enough, there it was – the muffled cry against Ricki's shoulder as Kate fell over the edge, her entire body going rigid, her insides gripping tightly at the writer's fingers – fingers that were just as adept inside her as they were working over a keyboard.

The detective whimpered and gasped for air as her muscles convulsed and relaxed, the waves of pleasure almost overwhelming to the point where there were tears in her eyes. She traced her own shaky fingers over Ricki's jawline, catching her breath and huffing an exhausted laugh before they devoured each other into a hungry, grateful kiss.

Ricki nipped at Kate's lower lip, easing her fingers out of the detective. "You like that?"

Kate could only grin in response, flecks of gold mixing into her hazel eyes before she spread Ricki's legs, licking her lips and positioning herself at their junction. Before Ricki could even react, Kate dove in, her fingernails lightly trailing over the writer's inner thighs – which quivered the instant her tongue hit Ricki's clit.

Even in the heat of the moment, Ricki couldn't help herself. "And people say I—" She gasped and arched her back as her eyes rolled back. "—have a mouth."

Ricki jerked and bucked off the mattress against when she felt the detective's tongue hitting that spot…then again…then yet again. Kate wrapped her mouth around Ricki's clit and started sucking with a rhythm the writer didn't know she had, and Ricki's legs tightened almost of their own accord.

It wasn't long until Ricki was on the precipice of falling off the same cliff Kate had slipped off of minutes before, and the writer's fingers tightened in Kate's hair the closer she got. Her mouth hung open, short, rapid gasps of air taking place of the moans and screams she wanted to give out – she'd had plenty of practice in keeping quiet over the years.

But with one last swipe of Kate's tongue, Ricki couldn't help but moan. Her body sunk into the mattress as the spasms and convulsions started, the waves of her release crashing against Kate's mouth.

Kate relished in the warmth and the taste, kissing her way back up Ricki's body – taking pleasure in feeling her sweaty body twitch with aftershocks under her lips – before cupping the writer's face in her hands and devouring her yet again.

Ricki moaned against Kate's lips, tasting herself on the detective.

"So…" Kate bit her lip. "What's the verdict, doctor?"

Lowering her face to Kate's chest, Ricki closed her eyes and pressed a soft, loving kiss to the scar resting in the valley between the detective's breasts. Ricki brushed her hands over Kate's shoulders as she lifted her gaze.

"Clean bill of health."

The two women kissed again, lowering themselves back onto the bed, their legs tangled together. They were both out of breath by the time their lips parted, and Ricki stared up into Kate's eyes, brushing her fingers along her cheek.

"Something to be said for not having to go to work."

"Mm." Kate brushed her nose against Ricki's. "It does have its advantages…"

They kissed again, before Kate lowered herself atop Ricki and rested her head on the other woman's shoulder. Ricki slipped her arms around Kate, her hand running up and down her warm, sweaty skin.

"Castle?"

"Hm?"

"I love you." She placed a kiss on Ricki's shoulder. "You know that, right?"

Ricki squeezed Kate with a soft laugh. "I think I have an idea, yeah."

"No, I mean it." Kate lifted herself just enough to look Ricki in the eyes. "I haven't always been that good at expressing myself. It's that wall…I don't always say what's on my mind."

"But you've been trying with me." Ricki leaned in for another kiss. "And I love you all the more for it."

"We'll get through this." Kate chewed on her lip. "Right?"

Ricki sat up a little, brushing a strand of hair off of Kate's forehead. Ricki's own brown locks framed her face, and if the look in Kate's eyes was any indication, she thought maybe she should wear her hair down more often.

"You know what I see?" Ricki brushed her fingers over Kate's scar. "This isn't a scar, Kate. It's a…a badge of honor. Your way of telling the world that you've been to hell and back, and you're still here. Life can throw whatever it wants at Kate Beckett; she took a sniper bullet to the heart and barely even flinched."

Kate huffed a laugh. "Right, cause almost a month in the hospital is barely flinching."

Ricki shrugged and smiled as wide as she could. "I like my version better."

* * *

><p><em>January 6, 1999…<em>

_Johanna Beckett's moment of vindication was at hand._

_Her colleagues had called her all manner of names – some playful, others somewhat vile – when she took on Joe Pulgatti's case. No one believed that a mobster was innocent in the murder of an undercover FBI agent, but from the first moment Pulgatti called her, something told Johanna things were off._

_It was too clean. Too open-and-shut. In her experience, that usually meant there was a cover-up._

_But for the first time in the almost six months she'd been working on Pulgatti's case, Johanna thought she might finally have something tangible to go with her gut instinct. She leaned against the wall by the elevator in the precinct, smiling with a phone clutched to her ear._

"_I'm sorry, Jim, I don't know what time I'll be home tonight." Johanna glanced down at her shoes, cringing at the smudge on the left one near the heel. "Tell you what, I'll take off early on Friday and the three of us can go have dinner. We can take Katie to that diner she loves so much."_

_Johanna shrugged, watching a pair of uniformed officers dragging a belligerent drug over to holding. She couldn't keep the smile off her face. "Well, forgive me for wanting to spoil my daughter rotten now that she's all the way out in California."_

_She laughed, twirling her dark hair in her finger with her free hand._

"_Sounds good. Look, I gotta go, babe. I'll call you when I'm on my way home. Give Katie a kiss for me. I love you."_

_Pocketing her phone, Johanna flagged down a uniform passing by. "Excuse me. I'm looking for a Detective Montgomery?"_

"_He's in interrogation right now, but you're free to wait by his desk."_

"_Thank you." Johanna crossed the bullpen, weaving through the desks. Phones were ringing off the hook, plain-clothed and uniformed officers scurrying about. She approached Montgomery's desk, which sat next to a white board, taking a seat in the chair beside the desk. The white board was cluttered, photographs and notes strewn about that, to the untrained eye, made no sense._

_Johanna liked to think of herself as a decent investigator, when the job called for it, but she couldn't make heads or tails of the board._

"_Can I help you, miss?"_

_Johanna stood and smiled. "Detective Montgomery?"_

_The black man with the thin moustache nodded and shook the dark-haired woman's hand, before tossing a yellow legal pad onto his desk. "Roy Montgomery."_

"_Johanna Beckett." She returned to her seat when Montgomery sat down in his own chair. "I'm a civil rights attorney."_

"_What can I do for you, Mrs. Beckett?" Montgomery smirked and pointed at the white board. "Please tell me you have a break in the Dobson case for us, because we're getting nowhere."_

"_Actually…I'm here about Joe Pulgatti."_

_Montgomery stiffened at the name, and something Johanna didn't recognize flashed in his eyes. He sat up a little straighter and adjusted his yellow tie, clearing his throat before regarding the woman sitting next to his desk again._

"_You're familiar."_

"_Yeah." Montgomery shook his head. "Mobster who killed an undercover FBI agent."  
><em>

"_Well, Detective, I have reason to believe he didn't do that."_

_Johanna watched as Montgomery shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. She half-expected him to tug at the collar of his shirt, his eyes dancing around the rest of the precinct. Fortunately for both of them, no one appeared to be paying much attention._

"_I have evidence." Johanna leaned in, lowering her voice. "Evidence suggesting three cops were making money on the side, abducting members of organized crime families and holding them for ransom."_

_Montgomery said nothing._

"_I have evidence implicating Detectives Raglan and McCallister, as well as Assistant District Attorney William Bracken." Johanna sighed. "But that evidence also implicates you, Detective."_

"_Are you interrogating me, Mrs. Beckett?"_

"_No, that's your job." Johanna sat back again, placing her briefcase in her lap and opening it. She pulled a business card out of one of the pockets, sliding it across the desk. "I'm not concerned with you or the other detectives. I want Bracken."_

_Montgomery's brows arched. "And you think I can help with that."_

"_In a manner of speaking." Johanna leaned in close again. "Bracken knows I'm close. He finds out I have this evidence, there's no telling what he'll do to me – or my family, for that matter."_

"_You want me to hide the evidence."_

"_That's the beauty of it, Detective." Johanna smiled. "You won't have to hide it. If Bracken knows you have it, he'll stop snooping around."_

_Montgomery leaned back in his chair with a sigh, running a hand over his face. He thought he was done with this; then again, he had been terribly naïve. He was still relatively young, a newbie on the force compared to some others. He was impressionable, short-sighted._

_If he wasn't careful, it would come back to bite him. Johanna's offer made as much sense as anything else._

"_Alright." He sighed. "Where's the evidence?"_

"_In a safe place." Johanna closed her briefcase, standing. "I'll come back on Friday, give it to you then." She closed the distance between them, shaking Montgomery's hand, leaning in so she could whisper in his ear. "Guard this tape with your life, Detective."_

* * *

><p><em>January 9, 1999…<em>

_As soon as the call from dispatch came through, Roy Montgomery left as fast as he could. Even without knowing who the victim was – a female body stabbed to death in an alley – Montgomery knew who it was. The stomach-churning realization rarely took hold of him like this, but every time it did, Montgomery wound up being right._

_He had to get to that body before the other cops. If she had that evidence on her, and the other cops found her first, things would unravel so quickly that Montgomery wouldn't be able to see straight before they took his badge._

_Somehow, he managed to beat investigators to the scene. He gagged when he laid eyes on Johanna's lifeless body. Why, he couldn't say – he'd seen his fair share of dead bodies, and some of them were in far worse shape than her. Yet Montgomery had to lean against the wall and take a few seconds to gather his bearings._

_Dropping to his knees, Montgomery looked over his shoulder. A large shoulder bag was on the ground next to Johanna, soaked in blood. Montgomery grabbed the bag, his heart pounding in his chest as he opened it and his eyes searched the contents._

_Nothing stuck out to him. Her notepad had nothing on it – aside from a note reminding her to meet Montgomery that night to hand over the evidence. Montgomery almost returned the notepad with a sigh, before his eyes caught writing in the bottom right-hand corner._

The elephants.

_Frowning, Montgomery shook his head, before he caught sight of a ceramic statue, a family of elephants lined up in a row. Shaking his head, Montgomery grabbed the statue, and when he lifted it out of her bag, he could hear something rattling around inside._

_He shook the statue again. More rattling._

_Montgomery stood, placing the statue on the inside of his leather coat, trapped between the material and his side. He glanced over his shoulder again before ducking out of the alley, making it about a block and a half before he heard sirens approaching from behind._

_The evidence wasn't safe with him. No matter what assurances Johanna had given him the other day, he knew better. The best thing he could do was to give the elephants back to Johanna's family, under the guise of a family heirloom._

_If Johanna's family kept the statue, unaware of what was in it, that was better for all involved._

_Right?_


	20. Chapter 20: Voice

_**Author's Note: Okay, so I'm a day early...I got some internet by miracle, and couldn't wait to post another chapter. Enjoy!**_

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><p><em>Two weeks later…<em>

Ricki Castle couldn't sleep.

Tomorrow would be Kate Beckett's requalification in order to retrieve her service piece – the final hurdle in her quest to return to active duty with the Twelfth Precinct. Kate was the picture of calm, assuring Ricki that her ability to handle a gun would be the strongest asset to hold up against the city's scrutiny.

But it wasn't Kate's aptitude that worried Ricki. She didn't like the idea of Kate returning to work. Her agreement to shadow the detective still held – Gates over at IA had reluctantly agreed to keep the deal in place during Montgomery's investigation – but Ricki pictured something happening to Kate again.

Even worse, she feared Kate would freeze in the field. Let someone point a gun at her for the first time since her shooting. What would happen? Those target sheets at the range wouldn't test her the way she truly needed to be tested.

Ricki watched Kate sleeping, the detective curled up in her bed. The writer closed her laptop, deciding she'd put Nikki Heat through enough for one night – _Heat Wave_ still hadn't officially been released yet, but Black Pawn was already asking for a sequel.

Just as Ricki stood to join her lover in bed, her desk phone rang. Ricki cringed, grabbing the device as quickly as she could, lest the ringing wake Kate.

"Castle."

"_Ricki Castle_." Ricki frowned. She didn't recognize the voice. "_We need to talk._"

"Who is this?"

"_I'm a friend of Roy Montgomery._" Ricki sat at her desk again, feeling a pit opening in her stomach. "_I'm afraid we have a problem._"

"You're damn right you do." Ricki couldn't hide her anger toward the anonymous voice on the other line – it may not have belonged to the person responsible for everything, but right now, it seemed as good an outlet for Ricki's frustration as anything. "It's not enough that she was gunned down by a sniper, but now she finds out that her boss might've had a hand in her mother's death?"

"_Roy didn't kill Johanna Beckett._" Ricki flinched at how…detached the voice sounded. "_But he knows who did. Just like I do._"

"Then here's an idea…" Ricki watched Kate roll over, closing her eyes with relief when she figured the detective hadn't woken up. She tried to keep her voice down, even as the emotion ran high. "Tell us!"

"_I can't do that. You two are in enough danger as it is._"

"Is that a threat?" Ricki sat up, scowling.

"_No. I'm not the one you need to fear. Last week, Roy Montgomery sent me a package in the mail. That package contained very sensitive information – information that would be very damaging to the person responsible for Johanna Beckett's death._"

"Why not just release the information?"

"_Montgomery struck a deal. In exchange for Katherine's safety, he agreed to keep the file hidden. On one condition._"

Ricki nodded. "She stopped pursuing the case."

"_You're a lot smarter than you look, Ms. Castle._" The sound of the voice chuckling sent an icy chill down the writer's spine. "_The deal was broken the second you connected the Coonan murder to Johanna Beckett's._"

"Then why are you calling me?"

"_Because Roy Montgomery changed the game. He went ahead and released the file_."

"No, he didn't." Ricki stood and started to pace in her office. "That file has nothing to do with whoever killed Johanna Beckett."

"_Yes, it does. You're just not looking in the right place._"

"Let me guess…" Ricki shook her head. "The deal starts anew? She stops looking into the case, she's safe? Again?" Ricki's free hand balled into a fist, and her attempts to hide her anger were failing – to the point where she went into the living room in hopes of her rising voice not waking Kate.

"No." She sucked in a deep breath. "_Fuck. You_. I am not going to go behind her back, steering her away from her mother's case because of some ominous voice calling me in the middle of the night. I don't know you from _fucking_ Adam, and if you have any idea who I am, you know I've written enough of these scenes in my time to know they always end badly."

"_That's a shame, Ms. Castle._" The voice sighed. "_I'm afraid you underestimate who you're up against._"

"And I'm afraid you underestimate how far I'm willing to go for the woman I love."

"_They will kill her, Ms. Castle._"

"Let them try." Ricki's nostrils flared, returning to her office, her heart skipping a beat when she caught sight of the woman still sound asleep in her bed. "They'll find _we're_ the ones to be reckoned with."

* * *

><p><em>Somewhere in Manhattan…<em>

As soon as the white-haired man named Mr. Smith hung up with a frustrated sigh, he felt cold steel pressed into the back of his head. He sat perfectly still at his desk, studying the files and newspaper articles strewn about the surface. The article about Detective Beckett's shooting, head shots of Roy Montgomery and Ricki Castle. Photographs from the Johanna Beckett crime scene.

The gun barrel pressed harder against Mr. Smith's head, and his hands gripped the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles lost all color. He swallowed, dark eyes lifting to focus on the fire burning in the fireplace on the other side of his office.

"That couldn't have gone worse." The cold voice behind Mr. Smith was accompanied by the sound of the gun cocking. Mr. Smith flinched, despite himself, tightening his grip on the chair even more.

"It's not my fault the novelist was unreasonable."

"No." Cole Maddox crossed in front of Mr. Smith, now pointing the barrel of his gun against the older man's forehead. "I guess it's not. Just means my body count's gonna be a little higher than I originally planned."

"The mystery writer?" Mr. Smith shook his head. "You're really asking for it, aren't you?"

Maddox smirked and shook his head. "I'll kill Beckett first. Make Castle watch." He shrugged, waving the gun around dramatically before pressing it against Mr. Smith's forehead again. "I'm glad your little bluff failed. My trigger finger's been awful itchy these past few days."

Mr. Smith shook his head. "He's getting desperate, isn't he?"

"Nah." Maddox shook his head. "I wouldn't call him desperate. I'd say he's more…impatient."

Maddox pulled the trigger, flinching when the loud blast was muffled by the _splat_ of flesh and blood, bits of Mr. Smith's skull hitting Maddox in the forehead as he flinched – both at the recoil and at the mess.

"So am I."

Maddox grabbed a white handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the blood off of his face before cleaning off his gun. Pocketing the weapon, Maddox grabbed the head shot of Ricki Castle, squinting as he studied it.

He glanced at the desk again, smiling when he saw an address to an apartment complex in SoHo. Grabbing that slip of paper, and pocketing Castle's head shot, Maddox left the study with purpose, ignoring the white-haired man now slumped to the side at his desk, blood still trickling from the hole in his forehead.

* * *

><p><em>The Twelfth Precinct…<em>

Without a word, Kate Beckett strode into the captain's office – which was currently occupied by Victoria Gates from Internal Affairs. An interim captain had not yet been named for the course of Roy Montgomery's investigation, so Gates was serving as placeholder – on top of her duties leading the investigation.

Kate slapped a folded-up piece of paper onto Gates' desk without so much as a word, regarding the other woman with a serious, purposeful gaze. Gates noticed Ricki standing just outside the doorway, narrowing her eyes. _Damned outsider…_

Grabbing her glasses from a stack of paperwork, and putting them on, Gates unfolded the piece of paper. She studied the target sheet from the shooting range, her eyes immediately drawn to the giant collection of holes in the 10 ring.

Her eyes flickered back up to Kate.

"I want. My gun."

Setting the paper down, Gates opened a drawer and retrieved a service piece before handing it to Kate. The detective grabbed the weapon, smiling in self-satisfaction once she again felt the weight of it in her palm.

"Welcome back, Detective."

Kate cleared her throat, her smile turning into a scowl. "Thank you."

Gates noticed the shift in Kate's demeanor, removing her glasses again and squinting. "Something on your mind, Detective?"

Kate took a deep breath. "The boys tell me you shut down the investigation." She cocked her head to the side. "My shooting."

"I did." Gates stood and crossed to the front of her desk, folding her arms over her chest and leaning against the edge. "There's been no lead in almost a month. We've got homicides piling up at our door every day, and by the way? Your captain is under investigation."

"They're not me, sir."

Gates' eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Ryan and Esposito. They're good cops, but…they're not me."

"I don't know what kind of operation Montgomery was running around here…" Gates' eyes flicked over to Ricki, ignoring the writer's scowl. "But I will run for mayor before I let one of my detectives investigate their own shooting."

"Sir—"

"Get out of my office." Gates sat in her chair again. "Ryan and Esposito are at a crime scene right now. They'll fill you in upon their return."

* * *

><p><em>The break room…<em>

"I don't like her."

Kate couldn't hide the smile on her face. She had her badge and gun on her hip again, and she watched as her lover masterfully worked over a state-of-the-art espresso machine Ricki had bought for the precinct while they were investigating who shot Kate.

"Yeah, well…" Kate shrugged. "She's no Montgomery."

Ricki joined Kate at the table with two steaming mugs in-hand, handing one to Kate. The detective took a sip, the smile on her face growing. Ricki always knew just how to make her coffee.

"Look…" Ricki sighed. "There's something I need to tell you."

Kate frowned, both of her hands wrapped around the warm mug. "Don't tell me Gates is kicking you out."

"No." Ricki sipped at her own mug. "Though…if it comes to that, I can always have the mayor run interference."

Kate reached across the table to take one of Ricki's hands into her own. Ricki squeezed that hand, taking in a deep breath before staring Kate in the eyes. For a moment, Ricki found herself lost in them again.

"Castle…what is it?"

"Last night, I got a phone call." Ricki swallowed. "While you were asleep. No name, number didn't come up on my caller ID. He said…he was a friend of Montgomery's, and that we had a problem."

Dread threatened to overwhelm Kate, and she reached up with her free hand to toy with the ring hanging around her neck. She grabbed her mug again, pushing down that dread with a swig from her drink. "A problem."

"He mentioned the deal Montgomery had…the one where he kept certain files hidden so long as those responsible for your mother's death left you alone."

Kate nodded. "So long as I stopped investigating her case."

"Right." Ricki took another sip. "He said the file points to who killed your mother, if one knew where to look. He also said…" Ricki squeezed Kate's hand. "He said he wanted to begin the deal anew, keep you safe so long as you stopped investigating."

"But…" Kate shook her head. Her hair had grown out in recent weeks, now almost reaching to her shoulders before flaring out at the ends. "The file's already been released. I don't see where it's a deal so much as an attempt to shut me out."

"And they wanted to use me to do it."

Kate pushed the mug away from herself. "What…?"

"The voice asked me to stop you from pursuing the case." Ricki shook her head. "Well, he didn't say those exact words, but I could tell that was the point he wanted to get across."

Kate grabbed Ricki's hand with both of hers, leaning in and staring into the writer's eyes. She swallowed thickly, her fingers starting to tremble. They stopped when Ricki squeezed her hand. "What did you tell him?"

"That I won't do it." Ricki shook her head. "I'm not gonna go behind your back making deals. We're gonna deal with this, Kate, and we're gonna do it head-on. Together."

"Why do I get the feeling he didn't take that too well?"

"He said they were gonna kill you, Kate." Ricki joined her lover on the same side of the table, slipping an arm around her waist and pressing their bodies together. Ricki didn't care who saw what; she just needed Kate to know whose corner she was in on this.

Kate smiled at the look in Ricki's eyes, her hands roaming up the writer's back. She wanted to thank Ricki for her support, for having her back even when she didn't know it, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she leaned in to press her lips to Ricki's…only to roll her eyes when there was a knock at the break room door.

She tried to hide the annoyance in her eyes when she saw Ryan and Esposito standing there.

"What?" Kate and Ricki unfurled themselves from each other. "The welcome back can't wait another twenty seconds?"

The two male detectives exchanged a glance, and Kate saw the worry in their eyes. Her hand linked with Ricki's, and they squeezed in unison. Ryan cleared his throat as Esposito walked into the room, handing a manila folder to Kate.

"That murder we were called in on this morning?" Esposito pointed at the folder as Kate opened it. "A John Doe shot in the forehead at point-blank range. CSU and ballistics are still combing over the place, but preliminary reports indicate…"

Kate looked at Ricki with worried eyes. "…Fingerprints are a match to the sniper rifle used to shoot me."


	21. Chapter 21: Dedication

_**Author's Note: I feel like another apology is in order, for an entirely different reason.**_

* * *

><p><em>Two weeks later…<em>

Compared to the launch party for _Storm Fall_, the celebration of _Heat Wave_'s official launch was a low-key, quiet affair. There was plenty of press, to be sure, and the fans were as numerous as before – there was a lot of buzz surrounding Ricki Castle's new character. But the music wasn't thumping quite as loudly, and though Ricki partook in her drink, she was neither chugging nor staring at the masses like a lion on the prowl.

Not that she wasn't trying to look her best, wearing a black button-down with royal blue and white striped tie, a brand-new pair of jeans and her best pair of boots. Ricki wore her hair down, wavy brown locks splayed out over her shoulders. She was dressed to impress tonight, but there was only one set of eyes she was hoping to please.

The man sitting with her at the bar was not that person.

"I don't think you've _ever_ turned in a manuscript that quickly." Paul smirked and downed the rest of his beer. "Don't suppose that means _Deadly Heat_ will be in by the end of the month?"

"I'm good." Ricki smirked. "But not _that_ good."

"I'm serious." Paul scratched at his stubble, leaning in. "The last three Storm books, it was like pulling teeth getting you to turn in something. But with _Heat Wave_, you're handing in a draft when I didn't even know you were working on something. What happened."

Ricki shrugged, unable to keep the smile off of her face. "I've been inspired."

"Inspired." Paul shook his head. "What could've possibly—"

Seeing the subtle shift in Ricki's face, the awe pouring into her eyes, Paul frowned and let his gaze follow suit – until he saw a tall woman walk into the room, a blue dress stopping at mid-thigh and hugging at every possible curve. Brown hair spun in waves around her face, and for a second, Paul got lost in a pair of hazel eyes.

He swallowed hard before Ricki smacked him on the arm.

"Down boy." Ricki grinned and set aside her empty glass, leaving Paul alone at the bar and weaving her way through the crowd. The two women's eyes met, and Kate's smile broadened as she ducked her head. Ricki got to her, raising her chin to plant a long, soft kiss to her lips.

They heard camera shutters going off, knew what the accompanying flashes meant, but at the moment, they didn't care.

"Hi."

"Hey." Kate bit her lower lip. "Sorry I'm late. Couldn't get away from the precinct."

Ricki's eyes gave Kate a once-over, and the writer bit her lip for an entirely different reason. Trying desperately to maintain her self-control – for another hour or two, at least – Ricki brushed aside a strand of Kate's hair instead. "You look so fucking amazing tonight that I'm willing to let it slide."

"Good." Kate kissed Ricki again. "Because I have a gun."

Laughing and giving Kate's hand a squeeze, Ricki snuck in for another kiss, thankful for a night of nothing but smiles and fun. There hadn't been much of either in recent weeks – they had managed as best they could, but between Kate's shooting and everything surrounding it, the tension was beyond palpable.

A night out on the town, even if it was technically work for Ricki, was just what the proverbial doctor ordered.

"You haven't seen it yet."

Kate frowned. "Seen what?"

"The dedication." Ricki glanced back at the bar, rolling her eyes. "My publicist is summoning me again. Go. Check it out."

Kate smirked as Ricki returned to the bar, approaching a short man in wire-rim glasses who was just shaking his head at her. Tucking her blue pocketbook under her arm, Kate glanced over her shoulder before approaching a stack of _Heat Wave_ hardcovers. She tried to ignore the cameras that were clearly focusing on her, fighting the urge to flash both badge and gun.

But she knew being with Ricki brought with it a certain amount of public persona – not to mention the fact that she was also known as the cop who was gunned down by a sniper but lived. Silently glad her dress covered her scar, Kate grabbed one of the copies of _Heat Wave_, her fingers trailing over the spine with reverence.

This wasn't just a new Ricki Castle novel. It was a novel about her. It was, for all intents and purposes, Ricki's love letter to Kate. She had been flattered when Ricki first admitted to basing a character on her, but after reading the advance copy, Kate was truly at a loss.

Her heart fluttering in her chest, Kate opened the front cover and flipped the first few pages. Her eyes found the two lines in the center of the page before the table of contents, and her breath caught in her throat.

_To the extraordinary KB_

_Whose love and bravery make all things possible_

So overwhelmed by her lover's words, was Kate, that she hadn't noticed Ricki at her side again. She looked at the writer with glassy eyes, smiling and placing the book back on its spot before tracing Ricki's jawline with her finger. "Castle, it's…" Kate shook her head.

"I meant it." Ricki gave Kate a soft kiss. "You _are_ extraordinary."

The two women shared a long, tight hug – and predictably, the flashbulbs sprung to life again. Kate cursed under her breath and Ricki squeezed her before pulling out of the embrace. "Castle…"

"I know." Ricki kissed Kate's cheek. "My publicist already knows what to do."

Kate quirked a brow and cocked her head. "Meaning…?"

"Meaning that if anything they print isn't true, or doesn't paint our relationship in an accurate light, I pursue action. Legal, if necessary." Ricki locked arms with Kate, leading her away from the crowd. "Paul has already instructed the media to refer to you by your full name and NYPD rank, and that if they insist on remarking upon the nature of our relationship, they are to mention that we are exclusive and serious."

Kate huffed a laugh. "That'll put a damper in your bad girl image."

"I think I've outgrown that anyway." Ricki shrugged. "Besides…the cameras, the paparazzi? The constant attention? That's my world, not yours. I don't want this relationship to tarnish your reputation or hurt your career in any way."

Kate gave Ricki a kiss of gratitude, thankful that they had slipped into another room, away from the hustle and bustle of the book launch. Ricki's obligations for the night were over, and she could technically leave now without Black Pawn getting too uptight – well, aside from the inevitable call from George.

Kate's expression soured, and when Ricki turned around to see what made the smile disappear from her lover's face, a chill ran down her spine. The hand not intertwined with Kate's balled into a fist, and Ricki sucked in a deep breath.

"What is _he_ doing here?"

"Hell if I know…" Ricki made a beeline for the door, stopping inches from the man who'd wandered through the threshold. "You've got a lot of nerve…"

Roy Montgomery sighed and shook his head. His dark eyes wandered to Kate, but once he saw the daggers her eyes were firing his way, he decided he was better off taking his chances with the writer.

"We need to talk."

"Do we?" Ricki's eyes narrowed. "What's the matter? Run out of shadowy, distant voices to call me in the middle of the night, telling me to back off?"

Ricki knew the man who had called her two nights ago was dead, probably murdered not long after the phone call in question. Kate hadn't shared many of the details with Ricki about it, but that was probably because Ryan and Esposito weren't sharing many details with her.

Given the connection to Johanna's murder, Ricki understood.

Deciding to ignore Ricki's anger, Montgomery shrugged and looked at Kate. "At the very least, I'm gonna lose my badge. Likely looking at jail time, too."

Kate folded her arms across her chest. "Good."

"I deserve whatever I get." Montgomery shrugged again before taking a seat in the far end of the room. Kate stood right where she was, with Ricki by her side. "I was a first-year when I got wrangled in with Raglan and McCallister. Way over my head, not nearly brave enough to stand up to them."

"So…what?" Ricki shook her head. "You started rationalizing it? Helped yourself sleep at night by thinking, 'Oh, it's just a few mobsters. Not like anyone'll miss them or anything'."

"That's exactly what I did." Montgomery scratched at his chin. "But then we offed Armen by accident…and things got a little too real for me."

Kate rolled her eyes. "And you were in so deep by that point, you couldn't get out."

"Once Bracken got involved, I was stuck." Montgomery stood and began pacing in front of Kate and Ricki, trying his best not to meet their scathing gazes. He deserved them – well, he deserved Kate's – but he couldn't bring himself to face that reality. "He threatened to publicize our scheme if we didn't cut him in on the money."

Kate shook her head. "Why?"

Ricki turned to the detective. "He was getting ready for his first run at Congress."

"I wish that was the worst thing we could say about Bracken." Montgomery approached the two women, stopping when Ricki stepped in between him and Kate. Ricki lifted her chin and narrowed her gaze, arms folded over her chest. "Look…everything was going fine until Pulgatti lawyered up."

Kate stepped forward, her fingers trailing along the side of Ricki's arm. Their eyes met, and the detective gave a single nod. Reluctantly, Ricki stepped aside.

"Roy." Kate's voice shook. "What happened?"

Montgomery's eyes darted to the floor, before he forced himself to look at the detective. He breathed in a heavy sigh, thinking back to the year he brought Kate Beckett to Homicide, thinking he could harness her tenacity and turn her into the best detective the city had. And he'd done just that – all while harboring this terrible secret.

"Three nights before her murder, Johanna came to the precinct to see me." A small grin crossed Montgomery's face. "Back then, your desk was mine. She said she knew about the scheme, knew that the three of us were in on it with Bracken."

Ricki shook her head. "And you fucking narc'd on her."

"No." Montgomery kept his gaze square on Kate. "She said she had evidence implicating Bracken and exonerating her client. Johanna said Bracken was all she cared about. She also said this evidence was a danger to her. She wanted me to have it. Kate…" Montgomery heaven another sigh. "She was supposed to give me the evidence the night she was murdered."

Kate took a step back, a stunned look on her face. Ricki grabbed her by the hand and soothingly ran circles over the back of the detective's hand with her thumb. Kate's lower lip quivered, her eyes turning glassy.

"I got to the scene before Raglan and McCallister." Montgomery stared at the floor. "I found the evidence and took it before anyone else could find it."

Ricki shook her head. "The file?"

Montgomery shook his head. "No. It was…it's a tape. Implicating the person responsible for Johanna's murder."

Kate swallowed as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Where is it?"

Montgomery approached the two women, leaning in to keep his voice down – even though they were the only three people in the room and the _thump_ of the music on the other side of the door would've likely drowned out whatever he had to say.

"It's been right in front of you for years."

Before either Kate or Ricki could react, Montgomery turned and walked out of the room, turning to the right once he was on the sidewalk outside. Ricki gritted her teeth and shook her head, the hand not tangled with Kate's curling into a fist.

Kate sucked in a ragged breath, another couple tears falling from her eyes. "Castle…"

Without a word, Ricki bolted from the room, running purposefully onto the sidewalk in pursuit of Montgomery. She heard Kate call her name in protest, following as best she could in her heels, but adrenaline and anger combined to make the writer close the distance to Montgomery before grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around.

"_Fuck you!_" Ricki pushed Montgomery as hard as she could, tears in her eyes. "Who the _fuck _do you think you are, waltzing into our special night like this, dropping this bombshell on us! What did you think would happen? _Huh?!_"

"Ricki—"

"Did you think you could make everything right?!" Ricki grabbed the collar of Montgomery's leather jacket, tugging. "You leave Kate some cryptic-ass message about her mother's death, and all's forgiven?"

Kate gasped when Ricki slammed a right cross into Montgomery's nose, dropping the man.

"You're a worthless sack of shit, you know that, Roy?!"

"Ricki!"

The writer ignored her lover, dropping to a knee to grab Montgomery by his coat again. Blood trickled from his nose, and his eyes were full of remorse. Ricki gritted her teeth again, raising her right arm for another blow – only to have the commotion of the night interrupted by a silenced gunshot.

Ricki's eyes went wide. Her mouth fell open.

Before either Montgomery or Kate could react, Ricki toppled to her left, falling to the pavement as the few passersby on the sidewalk scurried for cover, screaming in panic. Montgomery leapt to his knees, eyes scanning the surrounding rooftops. Before he could roll Ricki onto her back, Kate pushed him out of the way, tears in her eyes, smearing her makeup.

"_Ricki!_"

Ricki cringed and gasped when she wound up on her back, a pool of red on the sidewalk. Kate loosened the writer's tie with shaky fingers, her hands and lower lip quivering. Unbuttoning Ricki's shirt, Kate fought the urge to vomit when she saw the hole in Ricki's left side, blood oozing onto her skin.

"Ricki, no!" Kate cupped the writer's face in her hands, trying to sooth away the fear in her brown eyes. Kate brushed strands of hair out of Ricki's face, crying harder with each ragged gasp for air.

"God, Ricki…please, just…please stay with me!" She gave Ricki a frantic kiss, biting back a sob as she heard Montgomery talking to dispatch to get police and medical personnel to the scene. Flashbulbs burst to life to Kate's left; the assembled media had gotten much more than they had bargained for that night.

"Ricki…" Another kiss. "Please…Ricki, hold on for me. Please, baby. _Please!_"

"Kate…"

Ricki looked up at her lover, her eyes glassy, her skin pale and clammy. She tried to smile, but the sharp intake of breath reminded her of the searing pain in her side, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

"Ricki!"

Once the sirens whined to life in the distance, Ricki's eyes fell closed.


	22. Chapter 22: Here We Go Again

_**Author's Note: In an effort to calm a few reviewers' concerns...rest assured that if this fic were to, at any point, feature a MAJOR character death, I would warn everyone as such, since I know there are readers (such as myself) who like to avoid such fics for a variety of reasons. So no character deaths of that magnitude - just lots of angst and drama and shit going down.**_

* * *

><p><em>Later that night…<em>

One could forgive Kate Beckett if she had a sense of déjà vu. After all, it wasn't all that long ago that she was in surgery, the victim of a sniper's bullet. The only difference this time was that she was now pacing in the waiting room, her hands trembling. She was waiting. It was all she could do, and Kate hated waiting.

She felt helpless. She felt responsible. With every minute that ticked off that clock on the wall, she felt the guilt resting down just a little bit harder over her heart. She clutched at her scar, the raised, darkened area of skin that marked her own survival.

Detectives Ryan and Esposito swore they would be in soon, but they were busy chasing down the shooter. Esposito said CSU found the weapon this time, and if they were lucky, there would be prints.

Kate had left five voicemails for her father in the past hour. She realized how late it was, but she knew how fond of Ricki he was – and truth be told, she really needed her Jim right now.

Martha and Alexis were expected at any moment; Kate had gotten a hold of Martha as she rode in the back of the ambulance, and Martha said she would pull Alexis from an all-night sleepover with her friends before coming to the hospital.

Kate forced herself to sit down, and she was completely oblivious to her surroundings. This was all her fault. She agreed to let Ricki Castle shadow her, which dragged the mystery writer into the baggage that was her mother's unsolved murder. Ricki was in danger so long as she was associated with Kate in any way, and that reality broke her heart in a way it hadn't been broken in a long while.

But dammit, why did Ricki have to go after Montgomery like that? Why couldn't she have just let Kate deal with him? After all, she was the one who'd grown to trust and borderline idolize the man. What gave Castle the right to fly off the handle at him like that?

Kate looked up just in time to see Jim walk through the double doors, and as if her body were on auto-pilot, she rose to her feet and practically ran to him before throwing her arms around her father's shoulders and burying her face into his suit. She let out a pained sob while Jim squeezed her and rubbed her back.

"What happened, Katie?"

Kate shook her head and wiped at her eyes as Jim lowered them onto one of the couches, her lower lip quivering as badly as her fingers. "It's all my fault, dad…I never should've let her shadow me, I never should've let her be my partner. But now she's in this and she's in the crosshairs and she's gonna die and now Alexis is gonna be without a mother and it's all my fault!"

"Katie." Jim grabbed his daughter by the shoulders, looking her in the eye. "No. Don't do this to yourself. The only person at fault is the one who pulled that trigger, okay?"

Kate nodded as the door burst open again, and the detective looked up just in time to see a redheaded teenager approaching her, hands curled into fists, striking blue eyes puffy and bloodshot. Kate tore away her gaze, unable to look Alexis in the eye.

"Tell me it's not true." Alexis smacked Kate across the face. "Tell me it's not true!"

"_Alexis!_" Martha appeared seemingly out of nowhere, grabbing the teenager by her shoulders and leading her away. The elder redhead wore a look of horror, exchanging a glance with Jim before shaking her head. "I am so sorry…"

"No, Martha." Kate swallowed. "I deserve that."

"What on _earth_ are you talking about, Katherine?"

"It's my fault." Kate wiped at her eyes again. "I dragged her into my mom's case and now…"

Martha sat beside Kate, taking the detective's hand into her own with a weary sigh as Alexis found a seat as far away from Kate as possible before dropping herself into it. Smudged mascara framed the older woman's eyes, but she sat straight up and carried herself with at least the air of confidence.

"You listen to me, Katherine. My daughter was not dragged into anything. She has been by your side of her own free will from day one."

Kate stared at her own hands, which were cradled in her lap. "Well, maybe she shouldn't have been."

"I had that exact conversation with Rebecca when you were in the hospital." Martha waved her hand. "It did absolutely no good."

"Katie…" Jim and Martha exchanged a look. "Look, I know you mean well. You're scared and you're hurt and your first instinct is to run, like it's always been when things got tough. But you need to remember something." Kate finally raised her eyes to meet her father's. "When you were in here, she was with you, day in and day out. A lotta days, we had to beg her to leave just to get a shower or a bite to eat."

Martha squeezed Kate's shoulder. "Tell me something, darling. Would you trade anything that's happened between you two for the world?"

"You mean other than watching her get shot?"

Martha nodded.

"No." Kate shook her head and her eyes filled with tears again.

"Then be there for her, darling." Martha gave Kate's hand a squeeze, leaning in to place a soft kiss to her temple. "She's gonna need you."

Jim smiled. "I don't think you could stay away from her if you tried, anyway."

The corners of Kate's mouth twitched, as if a smile were about to break out, but she glanced in Alexis' direction. The anger in the teenager's face twisted at Kate's gut, and she looked down at the floor. If Ricki died, Alexis would never forgive her. Nor should she, really, but at the same time, both Martha and Jim were right.

If Ricki pulled through…Kate thought she could push the writer away in the interest of her safety, but the truth was, the idea of living her life without Ricki by her side made Kate feel ill. She couldn't do that. She needed Ricki as much as Ricki needed her.

The double doors to the waiting room swung open again, as Ryan and Esposito burst into the room. Esposito had a look on his face Kate had only seen once or twice over the years they'd worked together, and she stood once they locked eyes. She gave Martha and Jim a nod before walking over to Esposito.

"Please tell me we're getting somewhere this time."

Esposito held up a folded-up slip of paper. "We got a name and an address."

"Guy goes by the name Cole Maddox," Ryan chimed in. "We're pretty sure it's an alias. He's former Special Forces, apparently one of the best at what he did."

Kate frowned. "Who's he working for?"

"Dunno." Ryan shook his head. "My guess? Someone like Bracken."

"We're about to go after him now." Esposito pocketed the slip of paper. "I know you wanna be here for Castle, but I figured you might want a shot at taking down the bastard who almost killed you."

Kate looked over her shoulder in time to see Martha and Jim join the trio of cops. Jim placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Go, Katie."

"You sure?"

"You won't miss anything here, darling." Martha shook her head. "Rebecca will probably be in surgery for several more hours. Go. Catch the bastard."

"Thank you, Martha." Kate leaned in to kiss her dad's cheek. "I love you, dad."

* * *

><p><em>Midtown…<em>

The three detectives secured their bulletproof vests and checked to make sure everything was in order with their service pieces. Kate paused to catch a glimpse of her eyes in the rear view mirror, sucking in a deep breath and letting her fingers trail over the ring hanging around her neck.

"Yo, Beckett. You alright?"

She sucked in another deep breath, grabbing her service piece with both hands. She'd wondered the same thing herself, in the recesses of her own insecurities. This was to be her first live action since her shooting, and she'd be lying if she said there wasn't some trepidation. She'd even discussed as such with Dr. Burke, but this was one of those things she would only figure out with experience.

"Let's do this, Javi." She clenched her jaw as the three detectives got out of the car and poured into the apartment building in question. "The sooner we take this bastard down, the better I'll feel."

Esposito and Ryan exchanged a nod as the trio approached the apartment in question, before Esposito, who also had a shotgun strapped to his back, pounded his fist against the door. "NYPD! Open up!"

Silence.

Esposito banged against the door again. "NYPD! Open the _fuck_ up!"

More silence.

Another nod shared between Ryan and Esposito, before both detectives glanced at Kate. She drew in another deep breath, straightening her posture before nodding. The two men nodded in kind. Esposito kicked the door off of its frame, the sound of breaking wood drowning out his growl. Ryan and Beckett fell in behind him in perfect synchronicity before the trio poured into the apartment.

Ryan disappeared into a room to Kate's left, before Esposito did the same to her right. Kate took the living room area, furrowing her brow. For the most part, everything appeared normal – until she reached a circular table against the back wall, where a laptop and several photo albums sat.

"Clear!"

"Clear."

Kate shook her head, grabbing the photo album that read _Roy and Evelyn Montgomery's wedding_. "Guys…"

The other two detectives joined Kate at the table, frowning as she flipped through the pages. For the most part, the entire album was rather unremarkable – until they reached a page in which one of the photographs was missing.

"What was this guy looking for?"

"Not what." Kate pointed at the missing photograph. "Who."

Before any of the detectives could comment or react, Ryan felt himself being driven to the ground. He lost his handle on his service piece, the side of his head slamming against the hardwood floor. By the time Kate and Esposito whirled around to find their attacker, Cole Maddox grabbed Esposito around his neck and disarmed with a graceful swipe of his free arm.

Kate raised her weapon and pointed it at Maddox's forehead.

"_Freeze!_"

Maddox smirked. "Detective Beckett." Esposito struggled in Maddox's grasp, before the assassin rolled his eyes and tossed Esposito against the wall. His handgun fell to the ground, and Maddox ducked just as the bullet fired from Kate's gun burrowed into the wall.

Maddox's elbow cracked into Esposito's nose, and the detective dropped to the floor unconscious.

"You're like a damn cockroach, Detective."

"I said freeze!"

"I know what you said." Maddox smirked again. "I also know you're not gonna pull that trigger again."

Kate cocked her weapon and took a step forward. "That so?"

Maddox stayed completely still, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and a smug grin on his face. His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. "You don't have the nerve."

Flipping the weapon in her hand, Kate swung until the butt of her service piece cracked Maddox just under his left eye. Maddox recoiled with a grunt before straightening and smiling even more – all while blood trickled down his cheek.

"You put a bullet in my heart." Kate whacked Maddox with the butt of her gun again, this time opening a cut along his right cheek. "You gunned down my girlfriend. Who knows what else you've done?"

Her gun slammed into Maddox's chin, and he actually stumbled backward a couple steps. Kate closed the distance again, pointing the barrel of her weapon under his chin.

"I will _end_ you." Her teeth gnashed together. "But not before you tell me who you work for."

Maddox laughed and shook his head, before reaching up to wrap a hand around Kate's neck. He lifted her off the ground, and when his fingers dug into her neck, Kate gasped for air and loosened her grip on her weapon. Maddox took the gun from her with his free hand, before slamming her back-first onto the table and pointing her own weapon at her neck.

"You already know the answer." Maddox's jaw clenched, and he tightened his grip on her even more. "Don't you?"

Kate gasped for air, trying to buck herself off of the table, her fingernails clawing at Maddox's wrists. His grip held firm, though, and the more she struggled, the more Kate felt everything going dim. She was getting lightheaded. Focusing was almost impossible.

Her legs flailed, and she was just conscious enough to register the sensation. Gritting her teeth, Kate slammed her left leg between Maddox's legs, relishing in the sensation of her thigh connecting solidly with what was probably the most sensitive part of his body. Fortunately, he stumbled, losing his grip on Kate.

She leapt to her feet, grabbing her weapon again before kicking Maddox in his midsection. He stumbled onto his back, and Kate straddled him, pointing her service piece against his forehead again.

"William Bracken." She pressed the barrel harder against his skin. "Where is he?"

"How should I know?" Maddox grabbed Kate by the wrist and disarmed her before she had a chance to react, pushing himself off of her. As she tumbled along the floor, he straddled her, pinning her down by her shoulder and pointing her own weapon at her. "He's a busy man."

Kate bucked against Maddox's body weight, finding herself trapped between his body and the hardwood floor. His fingers dug into her shoulder. Kate's eyes locked with his, and the total lack of emotion in his eyes unnerved her unlike anything else in their entire drama.

"Shame it had to come to this, Detective." Maddox pointed Kate's service piece at her forehead. "You two were really hot together."

A shotgun blast rang out into the apartment, and before Kate had a chance to react, she saw a hole torn into Maddox's chest. Blood spatter coated her as Maddox's lifeless body teetered forward and ultimately fell off to the side. Kate closed her eyes and swallowed, before trying to get her breathing back under control.

She looked up in time to see Esposito gathering himself back up, blood trickling down the side of his head. He finally managed to stand, placing his shotgun back in its holster and giving Kate a nod.

"You good, Espo?"

"Five by five." Esposito glanced over his shoulder. "Ryan needs an ambulance."

From somewhere Kate couldn't see, she heard a groggy "No I don't…"

Esposito held out a hand, which Kate took, grunting when she was finally upright again. She grabbed her service piece and holstered it, fighting off the urge to be sick when she saw what was left of Maddox's body, Kate shook her head.

Maddox's involvement left more questions to be answered, but at least he more or less confirmed Senator Bracken's involvement. Kate had wondered about it from the moment Montgomery's file had been released, and Maddox's lack of denial told Kate all she needed to know.

But that could wait. She had more pressing matters.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Kate stared out the window. "I need to get back to the hospital."


	23. Chapter 23: Meeting Like This

_The next day…_

Everything since the confrontation with Cole Maddox had been a blur. Somewhere along the way, Kate had changed clothes and taken two showers – just one wasn't enough to get Maddox's blood off of her. She gave two statements to investigating officers, along with Ryan and Esposito, partly because she couldn't focus enough on her first statement.

There had been just one place she wanted to be, and the logistical nonsense surrounding Maddox's death was keeping her from being there. By the time Kate was finally allowed to leave, it was almost three in the morning.

Though it was now almost ten in the morning, the waiting room was sparse; only Jim and Martha remained, huddled up against themselves on opposite ends of a couch, asleep. The detective's eyes scanned for Alexis, who was nowhere to be found. With any luck, she was at school.

While Kate didn't blame Alexis for her anger, she didn't want to deal with it right now.

Kate took a seat on the far side of the waiting room, running her fingers through her hair and expelling a ragged breath. She barely noticed when the door leading into the belly of the hospital opened, and the clearing of a throat snapped her out of her trance.

"Excuse me." The tall doctor kept his voice low. "Is there a…Kate Beckett here?"

Kate stood. "That's me."

Relief washed over the doctor's ashen face. "Ah, excellent. Ms. Castle is awake and she's asking for you." The doctor actually smiled a little. "Well, more like insisting."

Blinking back tears, Kate nodded and followed the doctor down the drab hall. So focused on the fact that she was actually going to see her girlfriend alive again – something she wasn't so sure of just ten hours ago – Kate didn't even think to ask the doctor about her condition or how long she'd have to stay here.

Frankly, Kate was tired of this hospital. The people here were great, but still.

Once she stepped into Ricki's room, Kate's heart skipped a beat. The writer was pale, the bags under her eyes exaggerated by the harsh lighting. She was hooked up to both a heart monitor and an IV, and the monitor's rhythmic beeping broke the silence of the room. A wide smile broke out onto Kate's face, even as tears burned the edges of her eyes.

The doctor nodded and left without saying a word.

The two women locked eyes, and before Ricki could react, Kate was on her, wrapping her arms around Ricki's shoulders, burying her face in the junction between her neck and shoulders and expelling a relieved sob.

"It's okay, Kate." Ricki's voice was hoarse, cracked. "I'm okay."

Ricki rubbed Kate's back as she cried, squeezing her as much as she could with her reduced strength. The writer kissed Kate's right temple, giving her another squeeze before reluctantly pulling out of the embrace and wiping tears off of Kate's face.

"I'm so sorry, Castle." Kate sniffled and shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry…"

Ricki shook her head. "No…Kate, no. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But…if I hadn't—"

Ricki interrupted Kate with a kiss, caressing the detective's cheek with the hand that wasn't hooked up to all manner of machines. They broke the kiss, but Ricki's lips pressed against Kate's one more time.

"Listen to me, Beckett." Ricki pressed her forehead to Kate's. "I'm the one who should apologize." She smiled when Kate burrowed her brow. "I shouldn't have gone after Montgomery like that."

Kate pulled back slightly when Ricki lifted her gown, just enough to show Kate the scar on her left side. The skin was red and sensitive, bruising all around it. Another scar ran along her side to the left of the healing bullet wound.

"Let this be my constant reminder that I'm not a cop."

Kate clutched at her own scar, fighting off the tears again. She latched her hand onto Ricki's, shaking her head. "I'm not mad at you for going after Roy like that. Well, I _was_, but…"

"Do we know who did it?" Ricki swallowed. "Was it the same guy who shot you?"

"Yep, same guy." Kate sat up a little straighter. "We won't have to worry about him anymore. He was introduced to Esposito's shotgun."

Ricki smiled weakly. "Remind me to buy Javier a drink when I get out of here."

"Senator Bracken's behind all this." Kate shook her head. "I _know_ it, Castle. I just don't have the proof yet."

"You'll find it." Ricki squeezed Kate's hand. "You heard what Roy said. It's been right in front of you all these years. We'll figure it out." Ricki cringed as she sat up, a jolt of pain running up her side. "Just…"

Kate frowned. "What?"

"Next time I say I'm dying to see you," Ricki flashed a cheeky grin, "let's keep it metaphoric."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Kate laughed.

* * *

><p><em>Midtown…<em>

William Bracken gave himself a once-over in the mirror, pausing to straighten his red-and-blue striped tie. The flag pin on his left lapel was crooked, so Bracken straightened it before standing up a little straighter, smiling at the reflection staring back at him.

A crowd of supporters waited in the conference room. There was a buzz surrounding tonight's almost-impromptu press conference, and though some thought they had an idea of what Bracken was going to announce, his people had held this close to the vest.

An intern whose name Bracken couldn't remember sped past him. "Two minutes, Senator!"

He smiled into the mirror again, straightening his blazer and making sure everything else was in order. Bracken glanced at his phone with a frown; he should've heard from Cole Maddox hours ago.

Maddox's silence was unnerving.

Bracken pocketed his phone with a sigh, before crossing into the conference room. The crowd erupted in cheers, a feeling that still gave Bracken goosebumps, and he waved to the revelers and the cameras in the back. Flashbulbs threatened to blind the senator, but he squinted against them and approached the podium.

"Thank you!" Bracken waved his arms in a downward motion, trying to get his supporters to quiet down so he could speak. "Thank you so much!"

The noise slowly dissipated, and Bracken paused to look out into the crowd. He knew most of the people in the room – a lot of them had bankrolled his campaigns over the years – but even now, there were faces he didn't recognize.

"I can't tell you how much it means to have you all here." Bracken grabbed the edge of the podium. "But I can tell you that I'm tired. I'm so, so tired. I'm tired of the ways things are going in this country."

"Tell 'em!"

"Amen, Senator!"

"Taxes are the devil!"

Bracken shook his head. "I'm tired of the gridlock. I'm tired of coming back to my constituents and telling them that I can't work on their behalf because half of my colleagues are too busy acting like ostriches with their head in the sand to do their jobs!

"I'm tired of watching us waste money we don't have! I'm tired of us ignoring the true problems! I'm tired of us looking at the working man, the working woman, patting them on the back while we hide the knife!"

Bracken sighed. "But mostly…I'm tired of being tired."

The senator stared directly into the bed of cameras in the back of the room. All of the major local stations and the 24-hour cable networks were here. He had the exact audience he wanted for this announcement.

"Which is why…" He paused until applause died down. "…which is why I am announcing that I am forming an exploratory committee with the intent of running for the office of President of the United States!"

The resulting roar was practically deafening.

* * *

><p><em>Ricki Castle's hospital room…<em>

Ricki had fallen asleep again, and Kate was content to let her rest – maybe if she slept enough, she'd heal up enough to go back home before too much longer. The detective sat in the chair at Ricki's bedside, her legs tucked underneath herself, turning on the television in an effort to distract herself.

But once the screen flickered on, Kate's heart leapt into her throat.

_I'm tired of watching us waste money we don't have!_ Kate squeezed the remote in her hand. _I'm tired of us ignoring the true problems!_ Kate's mind screamed for her to change the channel, but she couldn't move. _I'm tired of us looking at the working man, the working woman, patting them on the back while we hide the knife!_

"No…" Kate shook her head. "Don't you dare, you son of a bitch…"

_But mostly…I'm just tired of being tired._

"Then take a fucking nap."

_Which is why…I am announcing that I am forming an exploratory committee with the intent of running for the office of President of the United States!_

Without even realizing it, Kate lost her grip on the remote, and the device fell to the floor. She cringed at the noise it made, guilt written all over her face when she saw Ricki stir. Kate stole another glance at the monitor, Senator Bracken smiling and waving to a crowd of supporters. The chryon was like another punch to the gut.

_Senator Bracken to mull Presidential run_

Kate swallowed hard, her hands starting to tremble until she felt another hand slide into hers. It broke the detective from her trance, and she stared down at Ricki's hand in hers, their fingers interlocked.

Kate looked up to see Ricki's sleepy face.

"Beckett…?" Ricki blinked. "Whus goin' on?"

Unable to find words, Kate instead pointed up at the television. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, watching Ricki's face tick upward. The writer squinted and rubbed sleep from her eyes…which widened the second she saw what was on the screen.

"No…"

"Castle…"

Ricki squeezed Kate's hand, sitting up as much as she could in her bed without triggering too much pain. She looked at Kate, squeezing her hand again in hopes of getting the detective to look at her.

"Hey, this doesn't change anything, okay? We're still gonna find that tape, and we're still gonna take him down."

Kate nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the television. The image of Senator Bracken smiling for the masses was seared into her brain, and she sat up a little straighter while sucking in a deep breath.

No. This wasn't going to happen. Katherine Beckett was not about to let the man she knew killed her mother move into the White House. She would toss Bracken's worthless ass into a jail cell, even if it was the last thing she did.


	24. Chapter 24: Revenga

_**Author's Note: Disclaimer that I don't own Castle or anything related to it, nor do I own the song from which I've borrowed the title and lyrics for this chapter. Enjoy! And please review!**_

* * *

><p><em>My sweet revenge will be yours<em>

_For the taking, it's in the making…_

* * *

><p><em>Roy Montgomery's house…<em>

Despite the late hour, and the fact that the driveway was empty, the front door to Roy Montgomery's house was unlocked. Kate eased her way inside, service piece hoisted in her double-fisted grasp, eyes darting back and forth over the moonlit surroundings. A light was on in the back end of the house, and Kate sucked in a quiet breath to calm both her nerves and her anger.

The pain meds the doctors had given Ricki knocked her out for the night, and Kate was glad for the respite, because in light of what she saw on the news earlier that day, she had questions – questions only her former captain could answer.

Assuming, of course, someone else didn't get to him first.

Once Kate got to the back porch, though, she knew that wasn't the case. Roy sat in a rocking chair, his back to the detective. She knew he was still alive because she saw a coin being flipped in between Montgomery's fingers.

Kate approached with silent steps, holding her breath. She carried her weapon in her right hand, trying not to let her hand shake too much, announcing her presence by pressing the barrel of the gun to the back of Montgomery's head.

"You and I both know you won't pull that trigger."

"Really." Kate's jaw clenched. "Time was, I knew you would never betray me."

Montgomery dropped the coin, the sound of it hitting the floor registering in the silent house as he put his hands up on either side of himself. Kate kept the gun pressed against the back of his head, but she relieved some of the pressure.

"How?"

Montgomery was silent.

"That file was supposed to destroy him." Kate shook her head, her lower lip quivering. "Yet here he is telling the world he's running for President. How, Roy? How is Bracken so bulletproof?"

Montgomery slouched in his chair, heaving a weary sigh and lowering his arms. He kept his gaze straight ahead, not daring to move his head with the cold steel pressed against it. He still didn't believe Kate would pull the trigger, but given recent events, he had to admit he wasn't really sure what she'd do at this point.

"Hell of a PR man." Montgomery shrugged. "Paying off certain news organizations to either make the story go away or to turn the focus on the three of us."

Kate's eyes narrowed. "Get everyone so busy saber-rattling over the crooked cops that they ignore the money trail leading to the man who wants to be ruler of the free world."

"Amazing what a stern denial, a sparkling reputation, and a hefty war chest'll get you."

Kate lowered her weapon and holstered it with a sigh, taking the rocking chair next to Montgomery's. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, trying her best not to look at her former mentor. He stole a sideways glance before returning his own gaze to the backyard.

"How's Castle?"

Kate sniffled. "They're moving her out of ICU tomorrow. For what it's worth, she's sorry she attacked you like that."

Montgomery huffed a laugh. "I figured it would've been you whalin' on me like that."

"Trust me, Roy." Kate shook her head. "If it had been, you'd be in the hospital and I'd be behind bars."

"And you'll never get justice for your mother from prison."

"I need that tape." This time, Kate was staring right at Roy, steely determination managing to come through the veil of unshed tears. "You know where it is, Roy. If nothing else, you owe me that."

"And put you in the crosshairs again?" Montgomery shook his head. "I can't do that, Kate."

"Damnit, Roy!" Kate sprung from her rocking chair, crossing over to Roy's and kneeling in front of him, smacking him across the face with an open palm. "You can't protect me anymore! I've already taken a bullet to the heart! I've seen my girlfriend get shot! So _stuff_ your antiquated notions of protecting me by lying to me!"

'It's not just you." Montgomery's dark eyes bore into Kate's. "That tape gets out, Evelyn and the girls are in the crosshairs, too."

Kate shook her head in disbelief. "Another deal."

"You're on your own on this one." Montgomery sucked in a ragged breath. "I can't do that to my family."

Kate stood and turned to leave Montgomery's house. "You should've thought about that the night you cornered Bob Armen in that alley."

* * *

><p><em>Twelfth Precinct…<em>

"Yo, Javi!"

The sound of Kevin Ryan's voice brought Javier Esposito out of the break room, a steaming mug of coffee clutched in his right hand. The two men had been at the precinct for almost 16 straight hours now, and the bags under Esposito's eyes were heavy. His tie and badge both hung loosely around his neck.

Joining Ryan at his desk, Esposito took a sip, cringing when he nearly burned his tongue. "What you got, bro?"

"Okay, so…" Ryan sucked in a deep breath, the kind he always took when he was about to dive into a drawn-out explanation. "On a complete whim, I decided to run Dick Coonan's financials again…and I got a hit."

Esposito frowned. "Coonan?"

"Well, it all started with him – and he's been quiet as a mouse since the whole Rathbourne fiasco." Ryan shrugged. "Given everything else that's happened in this case, do you really think he was laying low and behaving?"

"Laying low? Yes." Esposito sat next to Ryan. "Behaving? Hardly."

"Right, so when I ran the records again, I found another payment the night of Castle's shooting."

Esposito frowned. "Coonan paid Maddox?"

Ryan nodded, handing Esposito a manila folder. "He did the same thing the day Maddox shot Beckett. A one-time transfer of $200,000."

Esposito's brows arched. "That's more than Coonan made to kill Beckett's mom."

"That's not all." Ryan clicked the mouse on his desktop several times, his eyes dancing around the monitor. "Maddox also received payments the nights of those two shootings from an offshore account that's redirected several times, in the Caymans, Switzerland, Russia…whoever runs that account definitely knows what they're doing."

Esposito nodded. "Someone familiar with international banking laws."

"Maybe someone who _wrote_ one of those laws."

Ryan and Esposito fist-bumped. "Good work, Kevin. We're almost there. Just need a little bit more."

With a cheeky grin, Ryan grabbed the mug in front of Esposito and took a long, drawn-out sip. "Working on it."

Esposito frowned again. "That's cold, bro."

* * *

><p><em>The next day…<em>

The police presence at the Waldorf-Astoria was so dense, more so than usual, that Kate Beckett slipped in largely unnoticed. All she had to do was flash her badge at the security checkpoint and she was in with little fanfare. Senator Bracken was holding a large rally/press conference this afternoon, continuing the publicity push for his exploratory run at the White House.

As Kate wandered toward the conference room, she saw two uniformed officers dragging away a scruffy man carrying a smartphone and a legal pad. The badge on the man's shirt read _New York Post_. He struggled against the officers carrying him out, gritting his teeth.

"What happened to freedom of the press?!" His legs kicked out in front of him. "I have a credential! I have a right to ask about that file!"

Kate was content to let the protesting reporter steal the lion's share of everyone's attention, using the distraction to slip into the conference room. Her heart stopped when she laid eyes on William Bracken, feeling a strange tug at her scar. Blinking back tears, Kate forced herself to move again, her hand slipping into the pocket of her coat.

By the time he passed behind Bracken undetected, she slipped a flip phone into the pocket of his blazer. He was so engrossed in conversation with supporters, lamenting the state of covert intelligence, that neither he nor his audience noticed as Kate left the room.

From the hall, she grabbed the house phone, punching in a series of numbers.

Back in the conference room, she could hear the phone she'd left ringing. She allowed herself the smallest of smiles once the line connected, a confused "Hello…?" greeting her.

Cracking the door to the conference room ever so slightly, her eyes narrowed. "I'm watching you."

She watched him frown, his eyes scanning the room. "Who is this?"

"This is Kate Beckett." She smiled once his eyes met hers. He saw her eyes, familiarity washing over him. For a moment, the Senator was rendered speechless, mouth slack as he clutched the phone to his ear. "I knew that name would ring a bell for you."

With a clear of his throat, Bracken re-composed himself. "I don't have time for games."

"This isn't a game." Kate never broke her gaze, silently hoping her poker face was as strong as Ricki had said. "I have information that will destroy your career, for real this time, if you don't listen to me."

* * *

><p><em>Five minutes later…<em>

No sooner did William Bracken step into the dark, abandoned kitchen, he heard the sound of a gun being cocked. In the still of the kitchen, the sound carried far more than he would've liked, and the Senator stopped in his tracks, hands splayed in front of himself.

"That's far enough, Senator."

Kate Beckett emerged from the shadows, cradling her service piece in both hands. Her shoulder-length hair was straight, her hazel eyes dim with anger and hatred and hurt. Her hands twitched slightly, her footsteps echoing in the kitchen.

"What do you want, Ms. Beckett?"

Kate stopped roughly five feet from Bracken. "The truth."

"You _do_ know I'm a politician, right?" Bracken smirked and shook his head. "Besides…if you already have this information, then you already know the truth."

"I'm not talking about the mob scheme." Kate kept her gun trained on the Senator's chest. "I'm talking about my mother." She took a step forward. "_Johanna Beckett_. You had her murdered, Senator, and all I want is for you to admit it."

Fighting the urge to laugh, Bracken straightened and stared off to the side. He sucked in a deep breath, his jaw clenching before he turned his attention to Kate again. "Your mother's death was a real tragedy, and I am deeply sorry for your loss." He took a step forward. "But I can't give you what you want."

Bracken walked past Kate, and she whirled around thinking he was about to leave, keeping her weapon trained on him. But Bracken started pacing, his methodical steps echoing in the dark room.

"When I was fourteen," Bracken started, "I got to be friends with a boy in the neighborhood, Lamar Dokes. Sweet kid. Used to help him with his homework after school. But one day, he didn't come to school. So I went to his apartment after school, and I found the door open. Lamar was lying on his mattress, dead. His sister the same way.

"His mother was in the bedroom; she had hanged herself. She left a note…she'd lost her job, she was being evicted. And I thought, how could a woman be so _desperate_, so without hope, that she could crush up some pills, put them in hot chocolate, and give them to her kids? And that was the moment…" Bracken approached Kate. "That was the moment I knew I wanted to help make people's lives better. And I have."

Kate's hands trembled, but she kept her gun at Bracken's chest.

"I strengthened the safety net to protect kids like Lamar." Bracken cocked his head to the side. "I created jobs in those neighborhoods. I've done great things…just as you have."

Kate lowered her weapon, only slightly. Anger flashed in her eyes and didn't go away. She clenched her jaw so tightly that her teeth gnashed together, taking a step toward the Senator until there were but mere inches between them.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Her eyes were glassy. "How can _you_ justify yourself to _me_?" She saw Bracken's demeanor shift, and she pressed on. "My mother was stabbed in an alley…_because of you!_ She bled to death _alone_, in a pile of garbage!" She jabbed her gun into Bracken's chest. "So save me your _campaign speeches _about the great things!"

Bracken raised his hands in defense, his brows arched. "You sound a bit delusional. You realize that, don't you? I mean, what are you? A wounded cop, obsessed with your mother's murder? A woman who clearly doesn't know what to do with her life, so she hooks up with a bestselling author with a history of promiscuity and adultery?"

He shrugged. "Now…who am I? I'm a decent man looking out for the little guy. That's who the public sees. And every time they elect me, I'm humbled. I'm humbled that they've allowed me to weather the Pulgatti storm. I strive harder every single day to live up to their ideal. I want to be _that man_." His expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. "And I won't let _you_, or anyone else, get in my way."

"I don't think you're in a position to threaten, Senator."

"See, here's what you don't understand." Bracken pushed Kate's gun aside. "It's not who has the gun, it's who has the power. Do you _really_ think that's you?"

Bracken turned to walk away without giving Kate a chance to respond. She lowered her weapon, watching the man walk away from her. Tears burned in her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall. Not here, not now.

She also wasn't ready for this conversation to end. So she made a Hail Mary call. It was a longshot, it smacked of desperation, but Kate was tired of this overwhelming her life – and if she could end this sooner rather than later, she would.

"I have the tape."

Bracken stopped. _Yes…_

"Turns out it was under my nose all along."

The Senator slowly turned to regard Kate again, and she methodically closed the distance between them. She was still shaking, still on the verge of tears, still overwhelmed with anger and sadness and hatred she didn't realize she was capable of. But for now, she was still in control – and she needed to make sure Bracken knew it.

"You…Raglan…McCallister…Montgomery. Your confession. Your _order_." Kate cocked her head to the side. "So you're right…it _is_ about who holds the power. Now, I could release that tape and watch you burn, but something tells me I wouldn't last much longer." She got in Bracken's face, making sure he can see the anger in her eyes. "So here's what's gonna happen – that deal you had with Montgomery? That's _our_ deal now. Something happens to me, or to anyone I love, that tape goes public. Got it?"

Bracken remained silent, tearing his gaze away.

Kate expelled a ragged breath, a tear falling from her left eye. "Yes or no question!"

Reluctantly, Bracken met her gaze again, and this time, his eyes carried the same disgust and hatred as hers. "Yes…"

"And one more thing." Kate got even closer still to Bracken, looking up into his eyes with a scowl, her teeth gritted together. "Whoever it is you think I am, whatever it is you think you know about me…you have no idea what I'm capable of or how far I will go. I am _done_ being afraid. It's _your_ turn."

Before he could react, Kate smacked the butt of her gun against the left side of Bracken's face. He stumbled with a grunt, his hand immediately coming up over his face, warm blood seeping onto his fingers. He forced himself to look at Kate again, a mixture of shock and anger in his eyes.

She leaned in with a snarl. "That's gonna leave a nasty scar. Every time you see it, _think of me._"

Kate let herself take one last look at the blood trickling down Bracken's face before turning to walk out of the abandoned kitchen. She kept the gun in her hand, just in case he decided to get bold, and as she left, she blinked back her tears. There would be time to cry later. Her sadness was not the point of all this.

She stopped a few feet short, turning to look at Bracken again. He was still nursing the wound on his head. "I lied. There is one more thing." The smile that crossed Kate's lips was dark. "Come after Castle again, and the next time we meet, I'll use the other end of my gun."

* * *

><p><em>Should've been, could've been, would've been<em>

_Would've been you._


	25. Chapter 25: Back Together

_Ricki Castle's hospital room…_

As much as it hurt, the stitches on her side pulling, Ricki couldn't stop laughing. She'd spent the better part of the past half an hour talking and laughing with Jim Beckett, letting the man regale her with tales of his daughter's youth. His laugh was much stronger than hers, but he wasn't recovering from a bullet tearing into his side.

"If you _really_ wanna see her cheeks burn," Jim shook his head and smirked. "call her K-Bex."

Ricki sat up with another laugh, shaking her head. While she was appreciative of Jim's company, and the distraction he provided from the fact that Kate still hadn't come back from her errand, Ricki was ready to get back home.

She was beyond tired of this hospital.

"Any other embarrassing nicknames I should know about, Jim?"

"Call me Kit-Kat and you'll see a demonstration of my service piece. First-hand."

The voice at the doorway snapped both Ricki and Jim to attention, and they both lit up once they saw Kate walking into the room. Ricki thought she saw red in the other woman's eyes, but she talked herself into thinking that was just a trick of the lighting.

"Beckett." Ricki tried not to cringe as she shifted in her bed. "Not sure if threatening to shoot me is in good taste, given recent events."

"Oh, come on, Castle…" Kate leaned down to kiss the top of Ricki's head. "You know I'm just teasing."

"Oh, you're a tease, alright…"

With a loud, emphatic clearing of his throat, Jim rose from his chair with a sheepish grin. "I think it's time for me to head out." He gave Ricki's shoulder a light squeeze before leaning in to kiss Kate's cheek. "Court starts early tomorrow. Love you, Katie."

"Love you, dad."

Jim left and closed the door behind him, at which point Kate sat in the chair he had vacated, taking Ricki's hand into her own, a sly grin on her face. "So…how badly did he embarrass me?"

"Depends." Ricki smirked. "Do you still have the motorcycle?"

Kate's mouth hung open, disbelief etched into her hazel eyes. "He didn't…"

"More importantly…" Ricki's smile turned dark, her eyes flashing. "Do you still have all that leather that came with it?"

"Finish healing up, and you just might find out."

The two women laughed, and Kate leaned in until their foreheads touched. Ricki closed her eyes, relishing in the sensation, giving Kate's hand a soft squeeze – all while her thumb traced soft circles over the detective's hand.

"Where'd you go, Beckett?"

Kate went quiet for a few moments, partly because she was just content to enjoy her girlfriend's company, and partly because she was loathe to admit where she'd been. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Kate."

The detective opened her eyes, saw the writer's own staring back at her.

"Please." Ricki glanced down at Kate's hand, which was starting to tremble. "What happened?"

Kate sat up and sighed, forcing herself to look Ricki in the eye. "I, uh…" Kate shook her head. "I went to see Bracken."

"Kate…"

"I know!" Kate swallowed, squeezing Ricki's hand. "I know, Ricki, I just…last night, I went to see Montgomery. I tried to get him to tell me where the tape was, but he wouldn't."

"Why?" Anger flared in Ricki's chest again, and the heart monitor started beeping more incessantly.

Kate squeezed Ricki's hand and stroked her hair, trying to get the rhythmic beeping to slow. Gradually, it did just that. "He made another deal." She shook her head. "He kept the tape hidden, his family was safe."

Ricki shook her head. "Right, cause the first deal worked out so well…"

"After that…" Kate sighed again. "I got desperate. I had to confront Bracken. I had a play, and…I wanted to see if he really had a hand in any of this."

"Does he?"

Kate nodded, sucking in a ragged breath, her lower lip starting to quiver. Ricki squeezed her hand in response, and Kate sat up a little straighter. "You should've seen his eyes when he heard my mother's name." Kate's lips curled in disgust. "He may not have held the knife, but Senator Bracken definitely played his part."

"And now he's gonna come after us again."

"No, he won't." Kate leaned in for a soft kiss. "I struck a deal of my own with him."

Ricki sat up a little straighter again, hating the fact that she seemed to keep slipping down into her hospital bed. Even worse, the knot on the back of her gown wouldn't stay tied, and her naked back had been sweating into the sheet.

The sooner she could sweat on her own sheets, the better.

"Beckett…"

"I told him I had the tape." Kate reached down to kiss the back of Ricki's hand – the one that didn't have an IV needle sticking out of it. "That so long as nothing happened to me or anyone I cared about, it'd stay hidden."

Ricki shook her head. "You don't have the tape."

"He doesn't know that." A smile crept onto the detective's face.

A sideways grin spread onto Ricki's pale features, and she shook her head. "Hell of a play, Beckett."

"I also hit him."

Ricki sat up, ignoring the sharp pain in her side. She was pretty sure she just pulled a stitch. "_What?!_"

"I got a little heated." Kate shrugged. "He was pushing all of my buttons and I just…I needed him to know I'm someone to be reckoned with, so I slammed the butt of my gun into the side of his head." She smiled. "Gonna leave a nasty scar."

"And he'll have you hauled away for assaulting a Senator."

"No, he won't." Kate put Ricki's hand into both of hers. "Because he knows that coming forward with a public complaint against me runs the risk of all of his dirty little secrets spilling out. He got lucky that he escaped major damage in the Pulgatti scandal. He won't risk another flub, especially if he's running for President."

Ricki smirked. "I wish I could've seen his face."

"Oh, it was _priceless_, Castle." Kate's eyes turned dark. "Especially when I told him to stay away from you. I believe my exact words were _Come after Castle, and I'll use the other end of my gun_."

"Boy, am I glad I'm dating a cop." The smile on Ricki's face slowly faded, and she reached behind her to produce a folded-up piece of paper. "I, uh, had a visitor while you were gone. Montgomery came to see me."

Kate frowned.

"He spent the whole time apologizing." Ricki's eyes went dark. "Sounded like he was tidying up everything. Knew he was at the end of his rope and was trying to make things right."

Kate couldn't stop staring at the paper in Ricki's hand. "And that…?"

"It's a letter." Ricki nodded once. "For you."

Kate reluctantly took the paper, letting go of Ricki's hand so she could slowly unfold the paper. It was Montgomery's hand writing, and before she could bring herself to read the words, her hazel eyes went back to meet Ricki's.

"I didn't read it." Ricki shook her head. "It seemed…personal. Just a you-and-him thing."

With a deep breath to steady her suddenly-sensitive nerves, Kate looked back down at the paper.

_Kate,_

_You're the best that I've ever trained. Maybe the best that I've ever seen. We speak for the dead. That's the job. We are all they've got once the wicked rob them of their voices. We owe them that. But we don't owe them our lives._

_I'm writing this because I'm at the end of my road. Whether that means I'm the next one to wind up dead or they're gonna throw me behind bars, I don't know. But it's the end of the line for me, Kate, and I need you to know that I'm sorry for my part in everything. The Armen scheme, your mother's murder – all of it._

_I was a rookie when it happened. McCallister and Raglan were heroes to me. I believed in what we were doing. We were supposed to grab Pulgatti that night. Armen shouldn't have even been there. The whole thing was a blur, and McCallister and Raglan tried to bury it._

_I poured it all into my job. I became the best cop I could be. And then, when you walked in, I felt the hand of God. I knew he was giving me another chance._

_I think that's why I took to you so easily after I caught you in the archive room that night. I could've written you up that night, but I didn't – because I know pulling you away from that case would do nothing but push you even further into it._

_I can't make you stand down, Beckett. I never could. The way I figure it, no one can._

_I'm not gonna lie; I don't think you can win this. I worry about you. I worry about Castle. I spent most of my life walking behind my badge, and I can tell you this for a fact: there are no victories. There's only the battle. And the best that you could hope for is that you find someplace where you could make your stand._

_You find your spot, Kate. If you're very lucky, you'll find someone willing to stand with you._

_This is my spot. This is where I stand._

_I only hope you can forgive me one day._

_-Roy_

By the time she reached the end of the letter, Kate was in tears. A few fell from her eyes and stained the paper. She set the letter in her lap with a ragged breath, looking up to see Ricki staring back at her with love and concern in her eyes.

Kate reached out for Ricki and their hands locked together again, the detective using her free hand to brush away as many tears as she could.

"Sounds like a goodbye, Castle."

"Can't say I'm surprised." Ricki leaned in as much as she could, seeing as how she was still hooked up to the heart monitor and the IV drip. "If nothing else, his career's over."

"He betrayed me." Kate sucked in a hard breath, her lower lip quivering. "But he also made me who I am today. Everything you see when I strap on the badge, Castle, that's him."

"Not all of it." Ricki kissed the back of Kate's hand. "Sure, you learned interrogation techniques and…what to look for at a crime scene and…what questions to ask and when to ask them. But that's just the nuts and bolts of being a cop. Kate…that's not why you inspired me to create Nikki Heat."

"No?" Kate sniffled, her eyes red and puffy. "Then why?"

"Because more than anything, you honor the victim." Ricki squeezed Kate's hand, wishing she could lean over far enough for a kiss. "You dive into the victim's life and you put together every last piece you can until you can look their loved ones in the eye and tell them that the system works. Every other cop I see? Kate, they're good – Ryan, Esposito, all of them – they're _good_, but they work with their heads. _You_ work with your heart."

Kate leaned in to give Ricki a kiss, the writer's thumb brushing across her cheek to gather another tear that fell from her eye. Ricki broke the kiss and trailed a finger along Kate's jawline, and their eyes met.

"There is one other reason."

Kate cocked her head to the side.

"You're tall."

Kate laughed and shook her head, and the two women touched foreheads again. They squeezed each other's hands, before Kate gave Ricki another kiss. Kate slowly moved from the chair to Ricki's bed, careful not to get herself tangled in the machines that were still hooked to the writer.

Kate rested her head on Ricki's shoulder.

"Hey, Castle?"

"Hm?"

"We really have to stop meeting here." A sad smile crept onto her face. "I mean, the food's okay, but I much prefer Remy's or the Old Haunt."

"Well…" Ricki cleared her throat. "Once I'm out of here and am again capable of ingesting something more solid than Jell-O, I promise burgers and drinks."

"Mm, good."

Then, with the weight of the day finally catching up to her, Kate snuggled in closer to Ricki, hooking her arms around the writer's as her eyes grew heavy. The steady beep of Ricki's heart monitor eventually helped lull Kate to sleep.

For the first time in weeks, she slept through the night.


	26. Chapter 26: Back to Normal

_Two weeks later…_

Truth be told, Kate Beckett didn't much care for her own apartment anymore. Maybe it had something to do with the scar in the center of her chest, the fact that the last time she truly went home, she almost died.

Anymore, whenever Kate wasn't at the precinct – or the hospital – she was at Ricki's loft.

Fortunately, hospital trips were a thing of the past, since Ricki had been home for roughly a week and a half. She had her own scar, on the left side of her back, and every time Kate had her in bed, they took turns kissing each other's scars with all the love and reverence they had for each other.

Those scars were as much a symbol of their love as anything else, and as painful as the memories associated with them were, they also told of the two women's respective strength.

After all, they both survived. Not only that, they were still together, stronger than ever.

Kate rolled over in Ricki's bed, stretching with a contented sigh. It was still early – not even seven yet – and the detective frowned when she saw the space next to her empty. Kate sat up, letting the sheets fall from her naked chest before rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Rising, Kate grabbed Ricki's shirt – a black tee with the Green Lantern logo – and put it on. As she approached the door leading to Ricki's office, she heard the rhythmic tapping of fingers against keys, and the detective smiled.

Ricki was writing again.

Kate quietly exited the bedroom and crossed through Ricki's office before wandering to the kitchen, turning on the coffee maker and grabbing a pair of mugs. She leaned against the island as the coffee brewed, glancing at a pair of sweatpants hanging off the back of the couch. She grabbed them and put them on.

Good thing, too, because Alexis padded downstairs just seconds later. Her face brightened when she saw Kate standing in the kitchen, but the redhead tried to hide the smile.

"Morning, Detective Beckett."

"Please, Alexis, call me Kate." The detective chewed on her lower lip, studying the teenager. Ricki assured her that her daughter didn't hate her, but Kate would be lying if she said she didn't still worry after Ricki's shooting.

She knew how important Alexis was to Ricki, and Kate didn't want to do anything to get in the way of that, and she didn't want Alexis to hate her for anything that happened to Ricki as a result of their professional arrangement.

Alexis hoisted the backpack over her shoulder, smiling a little more and not trying to hide it quite as quickly this time. "Kate." She approached the island, ducking her head. "Hey, uh…I never apologized for that night at the hospital."

"Alexis, you don't have to—"

"Yes, I do." Alexis shrugged. "I was out of line."

"No, you were scared." Kate sat on one of the stools, patting the one to her right for Alexis to sit. The redhead did just that. "I don't blame you for the way you acted."

"But it wasn't your fault, Kate. I should've known that."

"Alexis, you're not even fourteen yet." Kate tried to give a reassuring smile. "You're forgiven for a moment of emotion and immaturity. You don't _always_ have to be the grown-up around here."

"I know." Alexis leaned over until her head rested on Kate's shoulder. "That's one reason I like having you around."

"You do?"

Alexis nodded with a smile. "It's nice having another adult around. And you've been really good for mom."

Kate took a chance, leaning down to place a kiss to the top of Alexis' head. "And she's been great for me." The detective shook her head with a smirk, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's funny, I never really pictured myself with anyone – let alone a woman, let alone my favorite author. Yet here I am, head over heels for Ricki Castle and finding myself looking forward to each and every day with her despite…well, everything."

"The day you met…" Alexis smirked. "She wouldn't shut up about you."

Kate laughed and shook her head. "And that day, I wanted to shoot her. Your mom was kind of an ass that day."

"Just that day?" Alexis giggled and shook her head before getting up and grabbing her bookbag again. "I've gotta run, Kate." Before leaving, Alexis wrapped Kate into a quick, tight hug. "I'll probably see you tonight."

Kate watched the redhead disappear with a smile before shaking her head and turning her attention back to the coffee maker. One mug was full by this point, and she worked on filling the other. Alexis' apology and seeming acceptance relieved a world of pressure from the detective's shoulders, and she couldn't help but wonder how someone so young was so mature – particularly given her mother and grandmother.

Both mugs now full, Kate padded her way back into Ricki's office with a smile. Normally, she was loathe to interrupt Ricki while she was writing, but her mood – bordering on serene – and the way Ricki looked in a black sports bra and matching sweatpants begged for an exception.

"Made you a coffee."

Ricki glanced up from her laptop and smiled, saving the document and closing the computer. "I think I could get used to mornings like this."

The two women sipped at their coffee, slow and gingerly with the steam still rising from each mug. Ricki leaned back in her black swivel chair, while Kate sat in one of the chairs across from the desk with her legs tucked underneath herself. The silence was comfortable.

Ricki sat up again, placing her mug to the side. "Oh, uh…got an email from Paul this morning. Apparently, _Cosmo_ wants to do a story on you for next month's issue."

Kate frowned, cradling her mug in both hands. "Why?"

"Well, _Heat Wave_ debuted at number eight on the _New York Times_ bestseller list, and they want to do a profile on the inspiration behind the main character." Ricki looked Kate right in the eye. "I mean, you can turn it down if you want. I'm the one Black Pawn's got under contract."

"What'll _Cosmo_ do if I say no?"

Ricki shrugged. "Probably just talk to me instead."

"Well…" Kate sipped on her coffee again, a sideways grin tickling her face. "How about they talk to both of us?"

Ricki sat back again, chewing on her lower lip before grabbing her mug and taking another sip. "You know…I kinda like that. Both of us there, same time, controlling the narrative ourselves." Ricki stood and crossed the desk over to Kate, placing a kiss to the top of her head. "I know the guy who'll be writing the piece; I'll call him directly."

"Won't that make Paul mad?"

"Please." Ricki scoffed. "That boy was _born_ mad. You should've seen the look on his face the night you showed up at the launch party. Tongue wagging out of his mouth and everything until he saw us kiss."

"Damn." Kate smirked. "Buzzkill."

"Hey, if _Heat Wave_ keeps selling, he'll be alright." Ricki squeezed Kate's shoulder. "Oh, _speaking of_…I'm almost finished with the first draft of _Naked Heat_."

"Already?!"

Ricki shrugged. "Making up for lost time."

As Ricki wandered into the bedroom, Kate followed, mug still clutched in her hands. "Castle, when was the last time you slept?"

"Last night."

Kate smirked. "Oh, we definitely weren't sleeping."

"_After_, silly." Ricki pulled a red button-down out of her closet, throwing it over her shoulders before fastening all but the top two buttons. She cringed when her movements tugged on the scar, but in truth, the pain had lessened considerably over the past couple weeks.

"And here I thought I was the one with the weird sleep schedule."

"Being a bestselling author while raising a just-now teenage daughter will mess up your sleep schedule, too." Ricki flashed a cheeky smile, replacing her sweatpants with a pair of dark blue skinny jeans. "Throw in the best girlfriend in the world and…hey, sleep is kinda overrated."

Kate cocked her head to the side. "Just so long as you're okay."

Ricki closed the distance between them, leaning in for a kiss. "Long as you're here, I'm always okay."

Just as Ricki and Kate pressed their foreheads together, the detective's phone pinged. Kate rolled her eyes with a sigh, setting her mug down on the nightstand before grabbing her device with a frown.

"It's Espo. There's been a murder."

* * *

><p><em>Twenty minutes later…<em>

Loathe as Kate was to leave her coffee, she couldn't exactly bring it with her to the crime scene. Only the promise of Ricki making a coffee run later in the day kept her spirits up as the two of them approached the crime scene. Ricki held up the yellow tape for Kate to duck under, and she flashed her badge for the uniform standing guard.

Another few steps, and Kate and Ricki were greeted by Esposito.

"What we got, Espo?"

"Victim's a black male, 18 years old. Preliminary ID is a Lamar Goodson, lives in Queens." Esposito walked in stride with Kate and Ricki, the two women putting on blue latex gloves before they came to the body lying on its back.

Lanie was kneeling beside the body, jotting down notes on her pad. "Preliminary cause of death is multiple GSWs. Three in the chest, one in the back, two in the right leg." Lanie looked up at Kate, her pen pointing at one of the wounds. "There's residue on this wound – and _only_ this wound."

Ricki frowned. "Point-blank? But why just that one?"

Kate sighed. "Whoever did this really wanted to send a message to Lamar."

Esposito shook his head. "Boy's dead. I'd say message received."

Kate kneeled beside Lanie, squinting as she examined the bullet holes. Lamar had been wearing a black t-shirt, which made a few of the wounds difficult to see, but up close, she saw enough of the bloodstain to get a general feel for what went down.

Her hazel eyes examined the pavement below. "Blood spatter is all over the place. What the hell happened?"

"I'll know more once CSU has a look." Lanie stood with a sigh. "Also once I get Lamar on my slab and have a chance to pull out the slugs."

"Murder weapon?" Ricki looked over her shoulder. "Shell casings?"

Esposito shook his head. "Nothing yet. Ryan and I are still looking."

Kate glanced to her left, seeing Ricki's furrowed brow. "Castle?"

"It's just…" The writer shook her head. "We know the one shot was at point-blank range, but the rest…we can't tell if they were long-distance, if the person shot Lamar from behind, or what. It just…whoever did this was either very angry or off their hinges."

Detective Ryan approached the group, the knot on his bright blue tie almost as big as his head. He was out of breath, but his eyes lit up when he joined Ricki and the other detective's holding up a large evidence bag. "Ladies – and Javi – the murder weapon."

Kate grabbed the bag with a frown, cocking her head to the side and leaning in. "Recently fired…not as heavy as it could be, which tells me the clip is empty…" She hoisted the bagged weapon in her left palm, shaking her head.

"Beckett?"

Shooting Castle a worried glance, Kate reached for her hip with her right hand, producing her service piece. She held out her weapon for the others to see, before bringing the weapon in the bag up beside it.

"Anyone notice anything?"

Ryan and Esposito shared a worried glance and Ricki shook her head. Lanie turned her attention back to the dead body sprawled out on the pavement.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me."

"I wish I was." Kate shook head head. "Lamar was killed with a cop's gun."


	27. Chapter 27: Treading Lightly

_Twelfth Precinct…_

Ricki Castle strode into the bullpen from the break room, a mug in each hand, approaching Kate Beckett's desk before handing the detective the blue mug. Kate took the mug with a smile, ducking her head and taking a sip before once again turning her attention to the white dry-erase board standing by her desk.

Ricki, taking a sip of her own, studied what little information was on the board. "Please tell me ballistics have come back on that gun."

"Not yet." Kate sighed and set her mug on the desk. "There were no prints on the weapon, and we're waiting for the serial number to come back. There are more than thirty thousand cops in this city, Castle; there's no telling who it belongs to."

"And for all we know, that gun was stolen before it was used on Lamar."

Kate cast a sideways glance at Ricki before cocking her head to the side. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Honestly?" Ricki shrugged. "No, I don't. But…I will admit that given everything that's been in the news the past month or two? Seemingly every other day, they're talking about some cop somewhere who shot and killed someone, justified or not."

Detective Ryan approached the desk with a worried expression, shaking his head. "I'm afraid you guys might be onto something." When both Kate and Ricki shot him a confused glance, Ryan heaved a weary sigh. "Security camera footage from the gas station across the street just came in...it caught the whole thing."

* * *

><p><em>Tech room…<em>

"Can't we do something about the resolution?" Ricki squinted. "Zoom in, go to HD, something?"

Ryan shook his head. "Sorry, this is the best we could do. The gas station's security system still runs on analog technology. We're lucky we even have this."

As the video played, grainy as it was, Lamar Goodman ran into the frame, glancing over his shoulder. He slowed, approaching the gas station until he came to a complete stop. There was no sound, but it was clear Lamar was pleading to a woman pumping gas into her Jeep for help. She stood there, continuing to pump her gas.

Lamar looked over his shoulder again, breaking into a sprint before falling to his knees. He had taken a gunshot to his back. Doubled over on the pavement, Ricki and the two detectives could see two bursts of blood – undoubtedly, the two shots Lamar took to his leg.

As Lamar rolled onto his back, placing his arms above his head, another figure rolled into the frame. But whereas Lamar had ran, frantic for his life, this figure – tall and broad – strode purposefully, each step methodical.

The male figure donned a brown leather jacket, matching hair disheveled and a matching goatee covering his chin. As soon as the man raised his right arm, putting two more bullets into Lamar's chest, Kate gasped in recognition.

She had to turn away before seeing the man put the final bullet in Lamar's chest from point-blank range.

By the time Ryan stopped the video, all three felt sick.

"Tech's working on facial recognition now." Ryan swallowed and shook his head. "But, with the video this grainy, there's no telling…"

"There's no need." Kate stood. "I know exactly who that is."

* * *

><p><em>Captain's office…<em>

Victoria Gates was still the interim captain of the Twelfth Precinct, until One PP managed to find a more permanent replacement. That was the official word, anyway; everyone in the building had a suspicion that they weren't even looking for a replacement, content to just let "Iron Gates" from Internal Affairs take over.

No one was happy about that, least of all Gates.

The latest bombshell from Detective Beckett did little to help her mood.

"Are you sure?" She tossed her glasses onto the desk. "Detective, that is a serious allegation."

"I know, sir." Kate shrugged. "But I saw the video. That was Ethan Slaughter."

"We already know the murder weapon was an NYPD-assigned handgun," Esposito recited from his notepad, careful not to look Gates in the eye. "Between that and the security footage from the gas station, we believe we have enough to bring Slaughter in for questioning."

Ryan chimed in: "And if ballistics is a match, we may be able to file charges."

"On what, exactly?" Gates shook her head. "Do we have…_any_ context for the shooting? Why Lamar was running? What he said or did to provoke Detective Slaughter?"

"Sir, there is no justifying this." Kate shook her head and approached the interim captain's desk, steeling her gaze when she saw the other woman silently challenging her. "Lamar Goodman was an 18-year-old _kid_ who was running for his life. He was scared to death, and he was shot _in the back_."

"And then the leg. Twice. And then in the chest. Three times." Ricki shook her head in disgust. "Once at point-blank range."

Gates trained her gaze on Ricki. "Why are you here again?"

Kate leaned over Gates' desk, her hands curled into fists as they slammed against the wooden surface. "Point _being_, sir…we have video proof that Detective Slaughter murdered an unarmed teenager in cold blood, and I plan to proceed accordingly."

Gates stood. "And I am telling you to _tread lightly_, Detective."

Kate stood up straight again. "No. Playing politics with One PP, playing the media like the puppets they are? That's _your_ job. I'm here to solve a murder. There's a woman in the break room right now desperate to find out who killed her only child and why, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anyone – even a holdover from IA – get in my way."

* * *

><p><em>Interrogation…<em>

"Detective Ethan Slaughter…"

Kate slapped a stuffed manila folder onto the table, ignoring the smug grin from the man sitting across from her as she took her own seat. Ricki took the seat next to her. Slaughter shrugged, resting his hands on the back of his head and leaning back into his seat and smirking. "That's my name, baby."

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes – knowing the man was, in part, just trying to get a rise out of her, Kate opened the folder and flipped through several sheets of paper. "Your reputation precedes you, Slaughter. Frankly, as colorful as your file is, I bet that even pales in comparison to the truth of it all."

"What can I say?" Slaughter's gaze moved from Kate to Ricki. "I love my job."

"Maybe a little too much." Ricki arched a brow.

Not giving Slaughter a chance to respond to the writer, Kate leaned forward in her seat, producing a still image from the security tape – an image of Slaughter putting one in Lamar's chest.

"Lamar Goodman." Her hazel eyes bore into Slaughter's. "Eighteen years old. Six bullets inside of him, all from _your_ gun."

Slaughter shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to tell you, Detective. He was a suspect. I was in pursuit. Things happened."

"Things," Kate repeated. "Why don't you tell me what those _things_ are, before I charge you with murder?"

"I've been tailing Lamar for the past three weeks." Slaughter shook his head. "Little turd muffin was a drug runner for the Westies."

Ricki arched a brow. "The Irish mob."

"Hey, they take the help where they can get it, okay? Especially after that enforcer of theirs got whacked." The pang of familiarity hit Kate, but she did her best to ignore it. "I finally corner the fuckin' kid, trying to get him to talk, and he bails!"

"Now, I'm no cop…" Ricki shook her head. "But I'm pretty sure running isn't a license to empty your clip."

"Oh…" Slaughter smirked. "Cute _and_ smart. I can see why you keep her around, Detective." He sat back in his chair again, licking his top lip with a sneer. "Maybe after we're done with this little bullshit session, you can turn off these cameras and I can do some shadowing of my own."

"Look. At. Me."

Reluctantly, Slaughter regarded the detective again, the smug grin still plastered on his face. "Well, if you don't want people saying shit like that, maybe you shouldn't have flaunted yourselves at that party." He looked at Ricki again. "Nice trick, getting shot and all. Bet that helped book sales."

Ricki's hands balled into fists, only relaxing when she felt Kate's hand on her knee under the table. That touch grounded her, calmed her nerves for the moment, and she cast a sideways glance, silently hoping that if nothing else, Kate would tear this guy a new one.

"Why did you shoot Lamar?"

Slaughter shrugged. "I feared for my life."

"Why?" Kate leaned in again. "Lamar was unarmed."

"Bullshit!"

"The only gun we found at the crime scene, Slaughter, was yours." Kate gritted her teeth, fire in her eyes. "So let me try this again…why did you shoot Lamar?"

"Self-defense."

Kate and Ricki exchanged a look.

Slaughter smirked and shook his head. "I'm not the only one with a reputation, Detective. I know all about you. Little crusader of justice, determined to make sure no one else has to live like you because you're still not over the fact that someone offed your mommy in an alley."

Ricki glared at Slaughter. "Watch it…"

"No one's gonna miss that fucking waste of oxygen, Detective." Slaughter shook his head. "I did this city a favor putting a clip in him, and I guarantee you the commissioner and the mayor and everyone down at One PP will agree with me."

"You got friends in high places, Slaughter." Kate stood, closing the manila folder and tucking it under her arm. "You think they'll still be in your corner once that video goes public?"

Slaughter's expression darkened. "You wouldn't…"

"Already did." Kate shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "See, our captain's a stickler for details, for evidence. And right now, that video footage is the best evidence we have. It shows you hunting that boy down and shooting him."

"Six times." Ricki folded her arms over her chest.

"What do you think's gonna happen once that video hits the air waves?" Kate smiled. "At the very least, you'll become a marked man. Best-case scenario, your career's over. This isn't roughing up some mafia enforcer, Slaughter. You _murdered_ an innocent kid!"

Detective Slaughter rose from his seat with enough speed and force that the chair fell to the floor, gritting his teeth and lunging over the table. Pushing his way past Ricki, knocking her to the ground, Slaughter reached for Kate, but she side-stepped him, grabbing the collar of his coat and using his own momentum to send him face-first into the door.

Slaughter grunted and covered his nose as he crumpled to the ground, while Kate tossed her manila folder onto the table and fished her handcuffs off of her hip. "Ethan Slaughter, you are under arrest for assaulting a police officer." She grunted when she latched the cuffs to his wrists, before hoisting him back to his feet and taking pleasure in seeing the blood dripping from his nose.

The door opened before Ryan and Esposito grabbed Slaughter on either arm and led him out of the room, Esposito mumbling something about Slaughter being _real_ tough attacking a female cop like that.

Kate kneeled to help Ricki back to her feet. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Ricki sighed, straightening the hem of her shirt. "Just…kinda mad you wouldn't let me kick in his teeth."

"I'd love to have seen that, Castle, but we have to play this carefully." Kate sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "As much as I hate to agree with Gates, she's right. It's a little different when it's one of ours."

Ricki shook her head as they walked out of the interrogation room. "Is Slaughter really that bad?" Even as she asked the question, Ricki knew the answer; five minutes in the interrogation room was really all the Ethan Slaughter she needed.

"Which story do you want first? The one about the three partners he's had, two of whom are dead and the other one who quit on his first day…or the one where he got a confession out of a witness by tossing him into the back of a garbage truck and threatening to turn on the compacter?"

"How does he still have a badge?"

Kate shrugged, grabbing her mug and taking a sip, blanching when she discovered her drink was now room temperature. She wandered to the break room, with Ricki following. "With any luck, he won't for much longer."

Kate poured out the contents of her mug before Ricki grabbed it and started brewing her another mug. The detective slid her arm around Ricki's as the machine whirred to life and started churning out the coffee, resting her head on the writer's shoulder.

"What about you?" Ricki kissed the top of Kate's head. "You alright?"

"Yeah." Kate straightened again, crossing to one of the tables before Ricki handed her the fresh mug. "Yeah, just…the Neanderthal pushed a couple buttons."

"Please." Ricki took one of Kate's hands into her own and squeezed. "Half the guys I went to high school with were like him. Entitled, desperate to prove just how macho they really are. Slaughter's nothing but a bully who decided to become a cop so he could feel superior to everyone."

Kate smiled and sipped at her coffee when Ryan walked into the break room, waving a folder in front of his face. "Ballistics came back."

Kate sat up a little straighter. "And?"

"Just like we thought. That was Slaughter's gun."

Kate and Ricki shared a smile. "That's it, then. Get the DA on the phone, Ryan, and tell them I want to start processing murder charges."


	28. Chapter 28: Too Fast and Too Slow

_**Author's Note: This chapter is pretty close to the actual storyline here, but from here on out, I'll be deviating a bit. Still don't own these characters or this universe, of which my bank account reminds me daily. Please review!**_

* * *

><p><em>Three weeks later…<em>

With the Ethan Slaughter mess behind them – it was a surprisingly quick affair once Internal Affairs and the DA's office got a hold of the security tape – life settled into a bit of a routine for Kate and Ricki. They solved murders together, Ricki wrapped up the first draft of _Naked Heat_, and Alexis was enjoying her summer vacation.

If participating in a summer camp at nearby Columbia University for gifted youngsters could be considered a vacation.

They'd even solved a case the previous week that Ricki had loved – one in which a self-proclaimed psychic was killed in her own office, and the perpetrator made it seem like she had predicted her own demise.

_This is _so_ going in the next book!_ Ricki had exclaimed.

True to form, Kate and Ricki found themselves in an alley on a surprisingly chilly New York morning, each clutching cups of coffee. The body was already on a gurney by the time they got there, Lanie Parish jotting down notes on her clipboard and Detectives Ryan and Esposito worked a preliminary canvass to direct CSU.

"Starting without us?" Ricki reluctantly let go of Kate's hand once they were within earshot of Lanie.

The ME arched an eyebrow. "It's not _my_ fault you two couldn't keep your hands off each other before the call came in."

Cop and writer exchanged a glance. "Was it that obvious?"

"Girl, you know I can read you like a book." Lanie gave Kate one of _those_ smiles before tucking her pen into her right ear and pointing at the bloody corpse on the mobile slab. "Vic's name is Hasim Farouk, Saudi national in the States to study at Columbia."

Ricki arched a brow, examining both the blood all over the mangled body and the pavement. "Cause of death?"

Esposito approached. "Runaway van." He glanced down at his notepad. "Eyewitnesses say they heard gunshots and a low-rumbling engine in the vicinity of this alley at about two in the morning last night."

Kate frowned, examining the handgun packaged away in an evidence bag laying on top of the body. "That Hasim's?"

"We don't know yet." Ryan joined the group, shaking his head. "But…there were security cameras in the area. I've already asked them to provide all of the footage from last night. Should be there by the time we get back to the precinct."

Ricki cocked her head to the side, free hand tucked against Kate's. "Looks like someone tried to get his Jack Bauer on."

Rolling her eyes and trying not to smile, Kate shook her head and took a step closer to the body. She studied the blood stains in his clothes, the way the baggy garments hid his injuries. Other than the blood, Hasim didn't look like someone who'd been run over, and Kate was anxious to see the security video.

"I hope not." Kate shook her head. "Last thing we need is this place crawling with feds."

* * *

><p><em>The Twelfth…<em>

"Security tape shows just what we thought," Ryan explained, punching a series of keys on a keyboard before the sequence played again on the flatscreen monitor. The victim burst into the middle of an alley, emptying his gun into the fast-moving van before the white vehicle plowed into him.

"Can you get plates on the van?" Kate squinted.

Ryan shook his head. "Angle's too sharp."

"We may not need them," Kate said as she glanced over her shoulder at Ricki, and the two women shared a smile before the writer sipped at her coffee. "Ryan, check other cameras in the area. As hard as that van hit Hasim, there should be some front-end damage and maybe even blood spatter."

"On it." Ryan's fingers deftly worked the keyboard, almost as quickly as Ricki's whenever she was in the zone writing a new chapter, before the image shifted to a street corner, where the van – crumpled front bumper and all – sat at a stoplight. The glare of a nearby street light made the plate impossible to read.

Kate saw Ricki staring at her phone with a frown. "What's wrong?"

"Hm?" Ricki looked up, pocketing her phone. "Oh, it's nothing. Just…I talked to Alexis last night, and she said she'd call today, but I haven't heard anything yet."

Kate gave Ricki's hand a squeeze. "It's not even noon yet, Castle. I'm sure everything's fine."

The van sat idle for almost a minute before the side door burst open. The two detectives and the writer gasped in surprise, just as a woman poured out of the van with a panicked look on her face. Kate leaned in, her mouth agape. A masked man emerged from the van, wrapping an arm around the woman's waist and dragging her back into the van.

Ryan froze the footage just before she disappeared again.

"That van had a hostage…" Kate shook her head.

"Ryan squinted. "Son of a bitch…"

Esposito burst into the tech room, shaking his head. "Just got back from Hasim's apartment. For a college student, this guy had some awful fancy weaponry. I'm talking Grade A military arsenal…" His eyes followed the others' to the monitor, and his frown deepened. "That the van that killed Hasim?"

"Looks like Hasim was trying to save that girl." Ricki took another sip of coffee.

"Ryan, Espo…" Kate stood, approaching the monitor. "Find out who that girl is."

* * *

><p><em>Two hours later…<em>

The woman in the video was later identified as Sara El-Masri, the 14-year-old daughter of Saudi businessman Anwar El-Masri and his wife Lina. Kate and the others were no closer to identifying those in the van who took Sara, nor were they able to discern why Hasim had tried to save her – or why he had access to military-grade weaponry.

Running Hasim's name through federal and international databases had yielded no results.

Which meant, for the time being, that Kate's best bet was to talk to Sara's parents – something she dreaded doing, no matter how many times she had to be the bearer of bad news to loved ones. Having been on the receiving end of that conversation, Kate always felt her heart break a little when she had to have one.

Her only solace this time is that Sara was still alive. At least, that was her hope.

"Mr. and Mrs. El-Masri, we're sorry that you're experiencing this ordeal." Kate leaned in, glad to have Ricki by her side. "But I'm afraid there are some questions I need to ask you."

"Of course." Even in this difficult time, Anwar sat upright, purposefully holding his head high while his hands cupped his wife's.

"Mr. El-Masri, do you have any enemies?"

Anwar shrugged. "A man of my stature and wealth, I've…rubbed some people the wrong way over the years." He heaved a sigh, the bags under his eyes combining with his white goatee to show his age. "In fact, that's why we hired Hasim to look after her."

"Sara hated the idea of having a bodyguard." Lina shook her head. "But we insisted."

Kate and Ricki exchanged a look, before Kate produced a photograph of Hasim that Lanie had taken in the morgue. Sliding the picture across the table in the dimly-lit conference room, Kate arched a brow. "This Hasim?"

Anwar swallowed thickly and nodded. "Yes, that's him."

"We believe he was killed trying to save your daughter." Kate put the photograph back in her folder. "The van carrying Sara ran him over."

"Mr. Anwar…" Ricki cleared her throat. "When did you last speak with your daughter?"

Kate caught something in the tone of Ricki's voice, arching a brow even as she tried to ignore it. Instead, she focused her gaze on the El-Masris, cocking her head to the side, the tip of her pen trained against the notepad under her arm.

"Yesterday afternoon." Lina nodded. "She's participating in the summer program at Columbia for gifted incoming high school students. She called us excited because she was going to hear a presentation on renewable energy last night."

Kate and Ricki exchanged another look, and something flashed in the writer's eyes. Kate gave her hand a squeeze under the table, certain this was just a coincidence.

"Do either of you remember the name of the speaker?"

* * *

><p><em>Columbia University…<em>

"Yes, Dr. Garcia gave a presentation on renewable energy last night." The lanky bald man wearing wire-rim glasses led Kate and Ricki into an empty conference room, rows upon rows of blue chairs lines up on either side of the room. "She had a fantastic dialogue with the children."

"Mr. Ferguson, do you have a list of the students who were in attendance last night?"

The man offered an amicable smile. "Of course. I'll be just a moment."

When the man walked off to fetch the aforementioned list, Kate turned to Ricki, stopping when she saw the furrowed brow on the writer's face. Kate cocked her head to the side, her fingers intertwining with Ricki's.

"What is it, Castle?"

The writer shook her head. "I just can't imagine what the El-Masris are going through right now." Ricki sighed, glancing down at her hand intertwined with Kate's. "Your worst fear as a parent coming true…"

Kate squeezed Ricki's hand in encouragement. "We'll find Sara."

"When Alexis was four…" Ricki shook her head. "…we went Christmas shopping at some mall in White Plains. I was trying on some…charcoal fedora. I turn around, she is _gone_. Vanished. I looked _everywhere_. So did mall security. So did the police. We searched for an hour." Ricki sighed. "Don't have to be a novelist to think of all the worst-case scenarios."

Kate kept her hand on Ricki's. "Where'd you find her?"

"Behind a rack of winter coats. She'd gotten bored." Ricki smirked and shook her head again. "She crawled underneath there and went to sleep." The writer looked up to see the bald man return. "To this day, I still dream about that."

Kate gave Ricki's hand one last squeeze before taking the sheet from Mr. Ferguson. "Thank you."

The detective and the writer both let their eyes scan over the document, pouring over name after generic, senseless name. Kate glanced up after the first pass through the list. "Mr. Ferguson, do you know any of these students? Would you be able to tell us if Sara El-Masri was here?"

The bald man's face lit up. "Oh, yes, Sara was here last night. She was with a friend she met earlier in the day. Redheaded girl, cute as a button."

Ricki tore her gaze from the paper, frowning. "Redhead?" The writer fished her phone out of her pocket, her thumb swiping over the device before she turned it toward Mr. Ferguson, a photo of a bright, smiling Alexis on the screen. "This her?"

Mr. Ferguson squinted, then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that's her."

Ricki and Kate looked down at the paper again, their eyes taking their time in going over the names again. Sure enough, Sara El-Masri's name was on the list, but the pang of familiarity hit Ricki again.

_Alexis Castle_.

"Alexis was here." Ricki gave Kate a glance, before her thumb swiped over her phone again. "Alexis was here! With Sara! Beckett…she might've been the last person to see Sara before she was taken."

"Castle, we need to talk to her."

Ricki pressed the phone to her ear. "Already on it."

But once the phone started ringing, Ricki turned around with a frown. Kate's movements matched her own, and the two women exchanged a confused glance before Ricki pulled the phone away from her ear. From the far side of the room, Ricki could hear Alexis' ringtone – the one she chose specifically for whenever Ricki called her.

The writer and the detective approached the source of the sound, a small cardboard box labeled _Lost and Found_. On top of the pile in the box, there sat Alexis' phone, Ricki's picture on the screen as the ringtone continued to play.

Ricki ended the call, her hand shaking. Before she could turn to look at Kate, she felt the detective's arms wrapping around her shoulders. Ricki leaned against her girlfriend, closing her eyes and swallowing back dread and bile.

The reality was sinking in, and it pressed into her gut like a stone.

"Beckett…"

The arms around her squeezed. "I know."

Ricki's voice caught in her throat, and her knees wobbled. "They took her…they took Alexis…"


	29. Chapter 29: Targeted

_Somewhere…_

Alexis Castle blinked the sleep out of her eyes, gingerly sitting up on the mattress. Her surroundings were dark, save the light bulb hanging off the low ceiling. Shaking her head, the teenager glanced to her right, her breath catching in her throat when she saw the other teenage girl unconscious.

"Sara?"

Alexis got no response, but she saw the other girl's shoulders rising and falling in a smooth rhythm. Okay, at least she was alive. The redhead forced herself to stand, relieved that nothing jolted with pain. A heavy door was closed on the other side of the room, and without even inspecting it, Alexis could tell it was locked.

"Sara?" Alexis dropped onto the mattress again, placing a gentle hand on the other girl's shoulder. "Sara, wake up!"

With a groan of protest, Sara did just that, lifting her head off the mattress and staring at Alexis through hooded eyes. She blinked and cringed before forcing herself to sit up and truly take in her surroundings.

"Where are we?" Panic flashed in Sara's eyes. "What happened?"

"I don't know, I…" Alexis shook her head. "I think we were taken."

"Oh, God…" Sara shook her head, curling up against herself and wrapping her arms around her legs. "Oh, God…my parents tried to warn me. They tried to tell me things like this were possible, but I didn't listen."

Alexis frowned. "Sara?"

"My father is a billionaire and a political heavyweight back in Saudi Arabia." Sara rubbed her temples. "When I enrolled in the program at Columbia, they hired a bodyguard for me, despite my begging them not to."

"Hey, it's gonna be okay." Even as she uttered the words, Alexis wasn't sure she believed them. "My mom works with the police. If we're still in New York, they'll find us soon enough, and then they'll track down whoever took us." The redhead flashed a hopeful smile. "Detective Beckett's not quite Liam Neeson, but she's the next best thing."

"We're going to die." Sara's lower lip started quivering. "We're going to die and it's all my fault!"

"Hey." Alexis grabbed Sara by the shoulders. "This is _not_ your fault, okay?"

The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted Alexis' pep talk, and both she and Sara fell silent, training their ears toward the door on the opposite end of the room. The footsteps stopped, before the door was pried open and the resulting squeak echoed in the spartan room. Alexis and Sara huddled up against each other.

Though the man entering the room was still mostly bathed in shadow, Alexis could see that he was tall, with broad shoulders and arms that looked like they had been chiseled from stone or granite. The black man was immaculately dressed in a tan suit with matching tie, and when his face finally emerged from the shadows, the earring on his left ear was almost blinding.

"Good evening, ladies." His voice was low, smooth. He almost sounded like Barry White – if Barry White were a well-dressed psychopath who made a habit of kidnapping teenage girls. "I trust you find your accommodations…most comfortable."

Alexis couldn't keep from shaking. "Who are you? What do you want with us?"

The towering man smiled, and for the first time, Alexis noticed the flecks of gray in his hair. "You'll find out soon enough, Ms. Castle."

* * *

><p><em>The loft…<em>

Ricki Castle couldn't stop pacing. If she stopped moving, if she sat down and let everything register, she feared she would fly off the handle, do or say something she would ultimately regret. Her hands shook, her eyes were red and burning with unshed tears. Kate sat at Ricki's desk, watching her girlfriend trying desperately to hold everything together.

But to be honest, Kate was having a hard time keeping it together herself. She hated seeing Ricki this way, in this much pain. It reminded the detective of when she had been in the hospital, recovering from a sniper shot to the heart.

No, this was worse. This was Ricki's only daughter.

Ricki tried to ignore the FBI agents that had descended upon her loft, commandeering the landline phones and setting up a mobile task force on the chance that Alexis' kidnappers would call wanting a ransom.

Whatever it was, Ricki would pay it. Anything to get her Alexis back.

A square-jawed man in a three-piece suit walked into Ricki's office. In any other circumstance, Ricki would've made a Captain America joke – because honestly, that chin – but given the situation, the writer kept the snark to herself.

"Ms. Castle." The man held out his right hand. "I'm Special Agent Will Sorenson with the FBI. I specialize in missing persons cases – especially those involving children."

Ricki shook Sorenson's hand, choosing – for the moment – to ignore the glance he exchanged with Kate. "Please tell me you can get my daughter back."

"The only thing I can promise, Ms. Castle, is that we will do everything we can to make that happen." Sorenson gave Ricki an almost imperceptible squeeze of the hand, determination in his eyes. "But in order to do that, you need to do _exactly_ as we say. Understand?"

Ricki nodded, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves.

"Now…we're operating under the assumption that Sara El-Masri was the target, and Alexis was taken as well, either as a matter of convenience or because she saw the captors and they considered her a liability." Sorenson glanced over Ricki's shoulder at Kate.

Kate nodded. "Either way, it's safe to assume that both girls are still alive. I'd even go so far as to say they're relatively unharmed."

"But what do the captors want?" Ricki shook her head. "Money?"

"Well, you _are_ rich, Castle."

"With all due respect to Ms. Castle…" Sorenson shook his head. "The El-Masris are wealthier than some entire countries. If there's a ransom, they'll be the ones asked to pay it."

"And then Sara and Alexis go free."

Sorenson shrugged. "That's our hope."

Ricki approached Sorenson, her eyes narrowed and her hands curling into fists. "Your _hope_? That's all you've got, Sorenson? _Hope_?" The writer felt Kate's steadying hand on her shoulder, but Ricki was frayed with emotion. "How do you know they won't release Sara and just kill Alexis? What _assurances_ do you have that my daughter will be okay?!"

In a moment like this, Ricki was glad Martha had her own place, her own life outside of the loft. There was no sense in wrangling her into all of this, particularly given her reservations about Ricki and Kate's relationship on numerous fronts.

The last thing Ricki needed was an _I told you so._

"Castle…"

"To be frank, Ms. Castle, we _don't_ have that assurance. But playing worst-case-scenario won't get us anywhere." Sorenson's eyes flicked downward, and when they looked at the writer again, there was an earnestness, a genuine need to help. "Until I see proof otherwise, I'm operating under the assumption that both girls are alive, safe, and in the event of a ransom demand, they will be both be released."

"Whatever they want." Ricki squeezed her eyes shut, her body tense against Kate's touch. "I'll pay it. If it means my little pumpkin walks through that door again, I'll pay whatever it takes."

Sorenson nodded and walked out of Ricki's office. "We'll keep that in mind."

No sooner did Sorenson leave the office, Kate approached Ricki from the front and wrapped her in a tight, desperate hug, resting her head against the writer's shoulder. Ricki's arms wrapped tightly around the detective, and her shoulders slumped, her eyes falling shut and the tear starting to fall.

Kate squeezed Ricki as hard as she could, fighting back tears of her own. "We'll get her back…"

"I wish I felt that confident…"

"Hey." Kate brushed a hand over Ricki's face, kissing her softly. "Everything we've endured already, and we've always come out the other side better for it. You hear me, Castle?"

The writer nodded and sniffled.

Before Kate could respond, her phone _pinged_ to signal an incoming text message. Keeping an arm wrapped around Ricki's waist, Kate checked the message with a frown. "It's Lanie. They found the van."

* * *

><p><em>Downtown Manhattan…<em>

By the time Ricki and Kate got to the scene, yellow crime scene tape was everywhere, uniformed officers keeping onlookers at bay while Lanie worked her magic in the back of the vehicle. The crumpled front bumper and blood spatter were familiar, but when Ricki caught sight of Lanie's feet hanging out the side of the van, she froze.

Kate frowned, giving Ricki's hand a squeeze. "Castle?"

Speechless, Ricki pointed at the van, feeling her knees suddenly going weak. Kate looked in the general direction, cupping her hand over her mouth when she saw dried blood inside the van and all over the pavement.

The two women shared a look, neither one wanting to voice what they were clearly both thinking.

Without another thought, Ricki made a beeline for the van, oblivious to Kate trying to restrain her. Ricki knew this was an active crime scene, she knew she didn't have a badge, but she didn't care because dammit, this was _Alexis_, and if that was her blood drying in that van…

The commotion had grabbed Lanie's attention, and she emerged from the back of the van with both hands splayed in front of herself. "Hold on there, Castle!"

Ricki finally stopped, her eyes red and puffy. Kate latched onto her, the detective's heartbeat just as rapid as the writer's. Both women looked at Lanie with wide, pleading eyes, but neither of them could find their voice.

Lanie, in a much softer tone, regarded Ricki. "What's your daughter's blood type?

"A-positive." Ricki's voice cracked.

Lanie closed her eyes and exhaled in relief. "That's B-negative. It's not your baby, Castle."

Ricki and Kate smiled and shared a brief kiss, though there were still tears in the writer's eyes. Kate reluctantly released her grip on her girlfriend, giving her a sympathetic nod before ducking under the crime scene tape to get a better look at the van.

Even amid the flickering blue and red lights, something caught Ricki's eye. She dropped to a knee, seeing another trail of blood along the pavement. It wasn't as dry as the blood in the van, and looking over her shoulder, Ricki decided to follow the trail.

Her steps were slow, careful not to lose the trail in the dark of the night and in the cascade of lights calling attention to this particular corner of Manhattan. The trail grew faint as Ricki approached an alley, and she stopped, wondering if maybe she should turn back.

A man groaning in pain caught her attention, and she disappeared into the alley.

Approaching the sound of the groaning, Ricki could barely make out a slightly heavy set man with a red beard crumpled on the pavement, bleeding from his abdomen. With any luck, that was a round left over from Hasim before the van hit him.

Ricki kneeled in front of the man, noting the anger and hate in his eyes when he registered her presence. The man's nostrils flared, and he sat up a little straighter, hissing in pain as more blood soaked into his shirt.

"You the driver?"

The man said nothing. Not that he had to.

Ricki poked at the man's chest, relishing in the way his pale face contorted in pain. "Where are the girls?"

"I don't talk to cops!"

"Good thing I'm not a cop." Ricki got in the man's face, ignoring the stench of day-old sweat rolling down his temple. "I got friends who are, but that's not why you should be so worried about me. You know that redhead?"

The man said nothing, but the look in his eyes told Ricki he knew.

"_That's my daughter_, you fucking shitstain!"

Fear flashed in the man's eyes, and he backed up even further against the brick wall. Ricki took pride in eliciting that reaction from him, her nostrils flaring.

"Who do you work for?"

The man shook his head, his breathing rapid and shallow. His eyes flicked back and forth, his shaky hands grasping for anything they could on the ground – yet they came up empty every single time. "I can't tell you! He'll kill me!"

"One more try." Something dark flashed in Ricki's eyes, her face contorting into a scowl she was pretty sure no one had ever seen from her before. Her hands were now remarkably steady, her finger hovering ever so close to the man's wound.

"Who. Do you. Work for?"

The man shook his head.

Ricki slid her finger into the bullet hole in the man's side, and his scream pierced the night and echoed off the walls of the alley.

* * *

><p><em>Ten minutes later…<em>

Making sure to wipe the man's blood off of her hands before exiting the alley, Ricki tried to lighten her expression. She didn't want Kate to know what she had just done, and she certainly didn't want her girlfriend seeing that sort of hate, of anger, in her eyes.

Ricki sighed and stepped out of the alley, thankful that Kate was still focused on the crime scene. It appeared the man's pained cries had gone unheard by everyone else, and Ricki was thankful that she wouldn't have to think up an explanation – for the time being, at least.

Still, she had a lead.

Ducking under the crime scene tape, Ricki approached Kate and kneeled beside her. They brushed hands, and Kate gave the most reassuring smile she could muster, given the gravity of the situation.

"Getting anywhere, Beckett?"

The detective shook her head with a sigh. "Not yet. CSU's gonna run DNA on the blood, but until we get that…" Both women stood. "I'm afraid we're at a standstill. I'm sorry, Castle."

Ricki looked over her shoulder before regarding the detective again, careful to keep her voice down. "Listen, uh…I think I got us a lead."

Kate's face contorted in a mixture of confusion and relief. "What?"

"Yeah." Ricki swallowed hard. "Just, uh…don't get mad, okay? I know I'm not a cop and I'm not supposed to do cop stuff, but…"

Kate grabbed Ricki's hand. "We'll worry about that later. What's the lead?"

Ricki looked Kate right in the eyes. "Does the name Vulcan Simmons mean anything to you?"


	30. Chapter 30: Desperate Times

_The Twelfth…_

"So what do we know about Vulcan Simmons?"

Detective Ryan slid his chair from his desk all the way to Kate's, plopping a manila folder stuffed to the proverbial gills with files, before loosening the blue tie around his neck and shaking his head. "Thanks to my days in Narcotics, quite a bit."

Pulling a mug shot from the file folder, Ryan slapped a magnet onto it and added Simmons' head shot to the white dry-erase board. Kate studied the black man's features, while Ricki sneered in disgust and shook her head.

"Simmons is big time, runs half of New York's drug trade." Ryan shook his head. "Don't let the size of his file fool you – Simmons hasn't been booked on anything in years, and even when he was racking up charges like a college freshman using daddy's credit card, nothing ever stuck."

Kate nodded, her arms folded over her chest. "So he's pretty much untouchable."

"Has his fingers in a lot of pies, too." Ryan opened a much smaller folder that had been tucked under his arm, studying the contents. "Remember Detective Raglan? Well, on top of being a dirty cop, he was also a degenerate. The man couldn't get enough of the horses."

Ricki flashed Ryan a confused look. "What does that have to do with Simmons?"

"Before he retired from the force, Raglan built up debt. Like, _a lot_ of it. Six figures. Then one day…debt's gone." Ryan shook his head again. "We never could pin it on anything, but when I was in Narcotics, we guessed he was running drugs for Simmons."

Disgust crept onto Kate's face, and she shook her head. "Any idea where Simmons is now?"

"My guess? Back where it all started roughly fifteen years ago: Washington Heights."

Kate immediately looked to Ricki. "Castle…my mom started a campaign in Washington Heights. 'Take Back the Night.' She was trying to clean that place up."

Ricki frowned. She didn't like where this was going. "Cutting into Simmons' profit margin. But…what does this have to do with Sara? With Alexis?"

Ryan shrugged. "Kidnapping has never been his M.O."

Kate stood, approaching the murder board and cocking her head to the side. Her eyes narrowed as they focused in on the sneering, smug image of Vulcan Simmons, all flashy suit and gold teeth.

"Let's ask him."

* * *

><p><em>Interrogation…<em>

It took far less time to get Vulcan Simmons into the box than Kate expected. Yet there he sat, wearing a crème-colored suit with a floral pattern tie. He carried with him an air of confidence, of smugness, like he knew no matter what happened in this cramped room, he was going to walk out a free man, content to continue whatever shady dealings he was currently wrapped up in.

Kate wanted nothing more than to slap that smug look off of Simmons' face. Ricki wanted nothing more than to bludgeon him in his temple with her heel before finding out where her daughter was.

But that sort of thing was frowned upon, so the two women just sat across from him, engaged in a staring contest of sorts before Kate opened her file and cleared her throat.

"You've painted since I was in here last." Simmons grinned, his eyes wandering the room. "That was _years _ago…you were probably in some back seat somewhere, getting' sweaty with a boy, trying to decide whether you were gonna give it to him or not."

Ricki snarled. "That's _enough_."

Something akin to recognition flashed in Simmons' eyes, and he regarded Ricki with a sly, knowing grin. "Oh…so that's how it is." He smirked. "She's sweet on you."

"Mr. Simmons, I'm Detective Kate Beckett—"

"Oh, I know who you are, Detective." Simmons sat up a little straighter, playing with the knot of his tie. For someone holed up in a dingy interrogation room, being stared down by one of the NYPD's finest, he didn't seem concerned about anything. "I know _exactly_ who you are."

Ignoring the jab, Kate read from her file. "We have reason to believe you're involved in the kidnapping of two teenage girls, Mr. Simmons. Do the names Sara El-Masri and Alexis Castle ring any bells?"

Simmons noticed the flare of darkness in the other woman's eyes at the mention of Alexis Castle. He regarded the dark-haired woman briefly, before turning his attention back to Kate – because if he was being honest with himself, Kate was the one who really interested him.

"I'm sorry, Detective. Can't say that they do." He pointed at the file on the table. "Then again, you probably already know kidnapping's not my thing."

Ricki balled her hands into fists under the table. "You mean you haven't picked up any new hobbies over the years?"

Simmons smirked, regarding Ricki. "And here begins what is known as 'the initial confrontation.' During this phase of interrogation, the interrogator may invade the suspect's space in order to increase his discomfort." The smile turned nasty. "Do you want to invade my personal space?"

Kate glared a hole through Simmons' head. "Look. At. Me."

Reluctantly, Simmons did just that.

"Two nights ago, a white van was used to kidnap Sara and Alexis. In the process of the kidnapping, that van struck and killed a man." Kate cocked her head to the side. "The driver of that van says _you _hired him."

Ricki shook her head. "Sara El-Masri's family is worth _a lot_ of money."

Simmons smirked again. "And this would be theme development. Presenting the crime through the eyes of the suspect."

"Answer the question, Mr. Simmons."

Instead, Simmons regarded Kate again, cocking his head to the side and narrowing his gaze. The man sat up a little straighter, clasping his hands together on top of the table, trying to keep the knowing smile off his face. "You know where I remember you from, Detective Beckett?" The smile turned into a sneer. "Your mother. Johanna Beckett. Bled out in an alley like the trash she was."

Kate flinched, trying desperately to hide it as anger and mourning flooded her hazel eyes. She clutched her pen a little tighter, feeling one of Ricki's hands go to her free hand under the table. She held Simmons' gaze, her jaw clenched. "Mr. Simmons, you better watch it…"

"Rich _bitch_ from Uptown on safari in the Heights." Simmons laughed and shook his head. "Someone should have warned her not to feed or tease the animals."

Anger threatening to boil over, Kate shook her head. "You…"

"If they had, she might not have gotten eaten." Simmons smirked, undoing the buttons on his blazer. "From what I hear, though? She was pretty tasty."

Before either Ricki or Simmons could react, Kate tossed her pen aside and lunged out of her seat, the chair falling to the floor as she leapt over the table, grabbed Simmons by the lapels of his blazer, and flung him against the two-way mirror so hard that the glass shattered. He laughed when his back slammed into the glass, shaking his head.

Kate's nostrils flared, and she ignored Ricki calling her name. The detective's knuckles turned white because of how tight her grip on Simmons was, her teeth gritted and anger filling her eyes. "Remember your old life, Simmons…_savor it_. Because I am gonna take it all away."

Simmons was still laughing by the time Detectives Ryan and Esposito burst into the interrogation room. Esposito grabbed Kate by the shoulder, trying to pull her off of Simmons, but she wouldn't budge.

"Stand down, Beckett!"

"That's _enough!_" Ryan chimed in.

Finally, Kate relented, storming out of the interrogation room with Ryan and Esposito following. Ricki approached Simmons, who was still wearing that smug little grin of his, buttoning his blazer once more. She got right in his face before reaching up to wrap a hand around his neck.

Again, Simmons smirked. "Oh, you want some too?"

"You listen to me, Vulcan Simmons." Ricki's nostrils flared. "I'm not a cop. I don't have to play by the rules. But know this: if we find out you took Alexis, you _will_ be answering to me."

* * *

><p><em>The stairwell…<em>

By the time Ricki wandered into the stairwell in the back corner of the precinct, she found Kate on her knees on the floor, face buried in her hands. Ricki was careful to make sure the door to the stairwell closed quietly before closing the distance between herself and the detective, gently getting onto her knees and placing a calming hand on Kate's shoulder.

"Kate…"

The detective shook her head and looked up. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hands were trembling. "I fucked up, Castle." Kate sniffled and looked down at a random spot on the floor. "He played me and I bought in, like a fucking rookie."

"Beckett…"

"Dammit, Castle!" Kate clutched at the writer's shoulders, shaking her head. "Don't you see what this means?! I fucked up the best shot we had at getting your daughter back!"

"You don't know that, Kate." Ricki took Kate's face into her hands, thumbs brushing away tears before the writer leaned in for a soft, comforting kiss. "Besides…I have a theory."

With another sniffle, Kate shot Ricki a confused look.

"What if Simmons was involved, both in your mother's death and in this kidnapping?" Even as she spoke the words, Ricki felt the anger boiling in her gut, suppressing the urge to ball her hands into fists and take out all of her rage on the nearby wall. "Think about it…why else would he bring up Johanna, if what we were interrogating him over had nothing to do with her murder?"

"To get a rise out of me?" Kate shrugged and shook her head. "To make me act out so we'd have to spring him free?"

"I saw the look in his eyes when he mentioned your mom." Ricki shook her head. "There's something else there. This isn't just him playing tricks to get us to put him back out onto the streets."

"Maybe, but…" Kate sighed, resting her head against the wall. "What about the girls?"

"That's where my theory gets…bad." Ricki sat next to Kate, shaking her head, suddenly unable to hold the detective's gaze. Nausea tugged at her stomach, and Ricki took a ragged breath in an attempt to steady herself. "We've been assuming that Sara was the target this whole time."

"Right, because of her parents' wealth and political clout."

"But what if…" Ricki shook her head. "What if _Alexis_ was the target, and they kidnapped Sara too, just to throw us off?"

"But why?" Kate snaked her hand into Ricki's. "Castle, that doesn't make any sense."

"It does if it's related to your mom's murder." Ricki sighed. "What if…what if this is retribution? For all the progress we've made on the case? For killing Maddox? For threatening Senator Bracken?"

Kate shook her head, the grim realization taking hold. "That can't be." She sat up a little straighter; the tears were gone, but the streaks still clung to her cheeks. "That's a clear violation of the agreement I made with Bracken."

"Is it? Kate, the deal was to protect _you_."

"No, Castle." Kate took both of Ricki's hands into her own, looking directly into the writer's eyes. "I made that deal to protect _us_. Me or anyone I love – those were my exact words. That means you, Alexis, Martha, the boys…"

Ricki blinked. "You…you love Alexis?"

"Of course I do, Ricki." Kate caressed Ricki's cheek. "She's your daughter, and I love you, so…" A small smile tugged on the corners of Kate's mouth. "Besides, she's bright and caring and strong…how could I not?"

Ricki smiled and the two women kissed again. Once the kiss broke, Ricki brushed her thumb over Kate's lower lip. Her smile disappeared, though, and her brow furrowed. "Wait…if the deal's been broken, what happens now?"

"I try to find that tape." Kate sighed. "Then we release it."

"Can we do that _after_ we get Alexis back?" Ricki's smile was hopeful but sad. "I want her safe before we go prodding at Senator Bracken again."

"That's my hope." Kate shook her head. "But you know Gates is going to kick me off the case after what happened with Simmons – and she should. I was way out of line in there."

"Yeah, but…" A wry smile crept onto Ricki's face. "All the best cops – Dirty Harry, Cobra, that guy from _Police Academy_ who makes the helicopter noises – they all have one thing in common."

Kate arched a brow. "Plucky sidekick?"

"That, and they always do their very best work after they've been booted off a case."

Cocking her head to the side, Kate couldn't help but smirk. "Does that make you my plucky sidekick?"

Ricki shrugged with a smile before standing.

Kate studied her girlfriend, her smile disappearing as she shook her head. "Plucky sidekick always gets killed."

Ricki shrugged and held out her hand, smiling when Kate took it and rose to her feet. The writer wrapped an arm around Kate's waist and their bodies pressed together in concert with their lips. Ricki's smile grew once the kiss broke.

"Partner, then."


	31. Chapter 31: Single-Minded

**_Author's Note: Please, if you're reading this story and liking what you see, feel free to drop me a note. Reviews are much-appreciated!_**

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><p><em>Ricki's loft…<em>

As soon as Ricki walked into her loft, she marched to the makeshift command center Agent Sorenson had set up in the case of a ransom call. Kate was beside her, stride for stride, and Ricki stopped once Will Sorenson saw her approaching and straightened his posture.

"Vulcan Simmons." Ricki sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

Sorenson folded his hands over his chest. "What about him?"

"We have reason to believe he's involved in the kidnapping." Kate sighed, and Ricki noticed that the detective was making a point not to look at Sorenson. "Which means, if we're right, this isn't about a ransom and it's not about the El-Masri family."

Clearly skeptical, Sorenson shook his head and scratched an imaginary itch on the back of his head. "You telling me your daughter's the target?"

"This is more than just a kidnapping, Will." Kate crossed in front of Ricki, who frowned at the fact that the detective was using the agent's first name. "This is a conspiracy that goes deeper than any of us know, and we have reason to believe it might be connected to my mother's murder."

"Oh, for god's sake…" Sorenson rolled his eyes and shook his head. "We really gonna go down this road again, Katie? You haven't changed a bit."

"I've changed quite a bit, Will." Kate folded her arms across her chest. "And we're not wrong on this."

Before Will could react – and before Ricki could ask just what the hell was going on with those two – the door to the loft opened. Ricki's heart sank when she watched Martha walk through the threshold. Her mother wore a look of worry, one that only deepened when she saw the makeshift command center in the kitchen.

"Rebecca…" Martha closed the distance to her daughter. "Is it true…?"

Giving Kate a sad look, Ricki took Martha by the arm and tried to hide the worry in her eyes. "I'll be back," she uttered before leading her mother into the office, shutting the door behind them.

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><p><em>Ricki's office…<em>

As soon as the door to her office closed, Ricki grabbed both of Martha's shoulders and heaved a sigh. The bags under her eyes were darker than her mascara, and though she didn't want her mother to see them, Ricki knew Martha would notice the faint streaks running down her face.

"Mother…"

"Rebecca." Martha sucked in a deep breath, her lower lip quivering ever so slightly. "Where is Alexis?"

"She was taken." Ricki shook her head, tightening her grip on Martha's shoulders. "She was with another young girl named Sara at Columbia last night. We thought Sara was the target, but now we're thinking Alexis was the target, as a way to get to me and Beckett."

"Oh, God…" Martha shook her head. "Oh, God, Rebecca…"

"Agent Sorenson and the FBI are all over this, and Kate and I have been following a lead all day—"

"I was afraid of this." Martha sat on the arm of one of the chairs across from Ricki's desk, ignoring the stack of _Storm Fall_ and _Heat Wave_ hardcovers that Black Pawn wanted signed. "This was _exactly_ what I was afraid of when you started shadowing Katherine."

"Mother—"

"Rebecca, this has to stop!" The rise in Martha's voice made Ricki flinch, but the writer slumped her shoulders when she saw the tears in the older redhead's eyes. "If you wish to remain romantically involved with Katherine, that is one thing – she is a remarkable woman who has clearly made you incredibly happy. But this…professional arrangement…"

Martha hung her head, tears running down her cheeks as Ricki closed the distance between them, dropped to her knees, and cupped her mother's face in her hands. She didn't know what to say, part of Ricki knowing nothing she could say would assuage Martha's fears, so she just pressed her forehead to her mother's, closing her eyes.

"If something happens to Alexis…" Martha sucked in another deep breath before lifting her head and giving Ricki a look she hadn't seen in years. "Because of your association with Katherine, then Rebecca, I don't know if I could ever forgive you."

Before Ricki could react, Martha rose from her seat and walked out of the office.

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><p><em>Meanwhile…<em>

"Not everything is related to your mom's case!"

"But _this_ is, Will!" Kate jabbed her finger into Sorenson's broad chest, taking silent pleasure in seeing how her finger messed up his _pristine_ tie. Sorenson had always cared far more about his appearance than he should've, and she long ago enjoyed poking at him for it.

Right now, though, she wanted to yank that tie off his neck and stuff it down his throat.

"What, so putting a bullet in your chest wasn't enough?" Sorenson's eyes flashed in anger before he saw her shoulders fall, and he sighed. "I heard about it on the news."

"Whoever took Alexis did so because they want me to back off." Kate shook her head, folding her arms over her chest. "I know Bracken's behind all this, I just _know_ it. I just—"

"Wait." Sorenson shook his head. "Bracken. As in _Senator_ Bracken?"

Kate nodded.

"That's a _very_ serious accusation, Kate." Sorenson huffed a laugh of disbelief, shaking his head. "The man's running for president, and you're accusing him of conspiracy to commit murder."

"He blackmailed three dirty cops to fund his first Congressional campaign." Kate's eyes narrowed. "Who knows what else the fucking weasel's capable of?"

"Okay, see, this? This right here?" Sorenson shook his head. "That's why I jumped on the job in Boston. What we had was so one-sided, because every time I looked up, your nose was buried in that damn file!"

"You asked me to go with you."

"Hoping it would make you _drop that fucking case_!" Sorenson gritted his teeth, approaching Kate as his cheeks turned red. "Dammit, Katie, I was trying to show you there was more to your life – _more to you_ – than jumping down that rabbit hole!"

"You don't think I know that now, Will?!" Kate shook her head. "You think I haven't learned that lesson over the past six years?"

"Obviously not! Cause every other word out of your mouth is still Johanna _fucking_ Beckett!"

Without thinking, Kate slammed her fist across Sorenson's face, taking a perverse sense of pride in the sound of her hand colliding with his nose. She was pretty sure she broke it, and she suppressed a smile when she saw the blood trickling down over his upper lip. Her hands were still fists, and she shook her head, getting in Sorenson's face.

"You don't get to say that name anymore." Kate gritted her teeth and narrowed her gaze. "Now, get back over there, do your _goddamn _job, and find my girlfriend's daughter."

Confusion flashed in Sorenson's eyes, and he cast a sideways glance when the door to Ricki's office opened again. He turned back to the command center as the older redhead stormed out, approaching Kate and squinting when she got to the detective.

"Martha…"

"If anything – _anything_ – happens to Alexis…" Martha shook her head and her nostrils flared before she turned and left the loft, slamming the door behind her. Kate sighed and closed her eyes, shaking her head and rubbing the knuckles on her right hand.

Anxious to put even more distance between herself and Sorenson, Kate wandered toward Ricki's office, frowning when she saw the writer curled up in one of the chairs, her eyes red and puffy as she absentmindedly thumbed through a hardcover of _Heat Wave_.

Ricki looked up when she felt Kate's fingers brushing through her hair, sniffling and faking a smile as she put the book back on the stack. They really needed to be signed; somehow, she doubted George would give her an extension, even with her daughter missing.

Because George was a fucking prick.

"Hey…"

"Hi." Kate stared at the floor. "I'm guessing Martha's not taking it well."

Ricki shook her head. "Normally, I'd say it's just her natural flair for the dramatic, but…she adores Alexis, as much as I do, and…Mother hated Martin, but she always told me Alexis was the only good thing to come out of that relationship."

Kate sat on the floor next to Ricki, placing a soft kiss on the writer's knee. Ricki took Kate's hand and their fingers intertwined…before Ricki took a closer look at Kate's knuckles, which were newly-red and sore.

"Captain American your sparring partner or something, Beckett?"

Kate sighed and shook her head. "Will and I…we have a past, Castle."

"I figured." Ricki shrugged when Kate flashed her a confused look. "Sidelong glances, avoiding eye contact…the fact that he called you Katie…"

"Years ago, he was working Missing Persons for the NYPD." Kate rested her chin on Ricki's knee. "We collaborated on a case that involved a missing 4-year-old girl. We solved the case, we saved the girl, and we just…clicked. It was nice at first."

"And then?"

"This was back when I was still investigating my mom's case every night." Kate shook her head. "He hated it. Kept trying to talk me into stopping, into giving up. Six months in, he gets a job offer. FBI up in Boston. He jumps at the chance and begs me to go with him."

Ricki shook her head. "Get you out of New York, get you away from that case."

"Basically." Kate heaved a weary sigh. "It was a messy break-up. And when I mentioned earlier that we thought Alexis' kidnapping was related…"

"He snapped."

"Yep." Kate showed off her knuckles again. "And then so did I."

"I knew there was a reason I hated him."

Kate couldn't help but smile, but the smile disappeared as soon as there was a knock on the door to Ricki's office. Sorenson stuck his head into the room, his nose crooked and a nasty bruise forming on his cheek. He saw the two women cuddled up against each other, and he tore away his eyes.

"We got a…" He cleared his throat. "We got a call."

Ricki and Kate made a beeline – hand-in-hand – to the kitchen, where Sorenson waved for one of the techs to place the call on speakerphone. He then gave Ricki a long, meaningful look before nodding and mouthing the word _go_.

Ricki sighed and glanced at Kate. "Castle."

"_Ricki Castle._" The baritone voice sent a chill down the writer's spine. "_That was quite the performance you put on at the precinct today. Don't suppose that did your girl any favors with her boss, though. Shame, too, she's a lot stronger than she looks. I'm still picking bits of glass out of my suit._"

"Too bad they're not picking them out of the back of your head, Simmons."

"_Now now, Ricki Castle…you keep acting hostile like that, you won't find out where that precious little redhead of yours is._"

Kate squeezed Ricki's hand as the writer spoke: "Funny, you told us you didn't know anything about that."

Ricki's eyes flicked to Sorenson, who waved circles with his index finger, telling her to keep going. They were busy tracing the call, trying to get a bead on where Vulcan Simmons was; with any luck, the girls would be there, too.

"_I said no such thing._"

"Right…because you were too busy pissing all over my girlfriend's mother's grave."

"_Mm. Girlfriend. I knew there something between the two of you._" Ricki felt like she could _hear_ Simmons' sneer over the phone, and she shuddered at the visual. "_I did say I didn't kidnap her, though, and I was telling the truth about that. Human trafficking isn't my thing._"

"No. Just drugs."

Simmons belted out a belly laugh. "_If you saw the money in it, Ricki Castle, you'd want yourself a piece of the pie too. Not that you need the money now, but still._"

"What do you want, Vulcan?"

"_I want that bitch of yours to back off._" The two women squeezed each other's hand, anger flaring in Ricki's eyes. "_I want assurances, once and for all, that she will no longer pursue her mother's investigation_."

"Kinda hard…" Ricki shook her head. "…considering it seems to keep falling in her lap."

"_That's the deal, Ricki Castle. Detective Beckett backs off, you get your girl back._"

The line went dead before anyone could respond.

Kate's eyes shot daggers at Sorenson. "Believe me now, Will?"

Sorenson ignored the jab, leaning over one of the techs, his face close enough to the laptop that the light from the monitor bathed his face and hid the bruise. He straightened with a fist pump, grabbing a smartphone from the inside of his blazer. "Got him."

Kate squeezed Ricki's hand again, and the two women exchanged a look before Ricki sucked in a deep breath and bore a hole into Sorenson with her gaze, watching him press the phone to his ear.

"McCord. Sorenson here." The agent rubbed his bruise, grimacing. "Listen, I'm sending you coordinates. We've got a case here in New York, two 14-year-old girls were kidnapped, and we have reason to believe they've been transported to D.C."

Ricki frowned.

"A man named Vulcan Simmons." Sorenson shook his head. "I'm not familiar; never heard the name til about twenty minutes ago. I'll consult with the NYPD, see what they have on him. When I find out, I'll let you know.

"Thanks, Rachel."


	32. Chapter 32: Time Running Out

_**Author's Note: Welp, shit's getting real again...I'm having so much fun writing this story, and I hope you all are having just as much fun reading it. Reviews are appreciated!**_

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><p><em>Somewhere in Washington, DC…<em>

Despite the fact that Vulcan Simmons hadn't harmed Alexis or Sara since their abduction a day and a half earlier, the two teenage girls still recoiled in fear whenever he decided to "grace" them with his presence. His presence was so large, so menacing, that the simple act of him walking into a room was intimidating in its own right.

That Alexis could overhear his end of a telephone conversation just minutes earlier did little to assuage her fear. The redhead huddled against herself, her back pressed flat against the cold wall, her arms wrapped around her knees.

Sara was sound asleep, sheer exhaustion overpowering her own fear for the moment.

The door cracked open and Alexis held her breath. She tried her best not to shake, but the towering, shadowy figure made her blood run cold and she lost what little color her face actually had. Alexis glanced at the other girl, who miraculously was still asleep.

Simmons stopped at the doorway before raising his right arm and flicking his index finger back and forth, as if he were beckoning the young redhead. She hesitated at first, every instinct in her body screaming for her not to approach the menacing figure, but logic told her following instructions was the best course of action at the moment.

Reluctantly, Alexis uncurled her legs and rose to her feet, taking cautious steps toward Simmons. His tie was gone, the collar of his mustard-yellow dress shirt disheveled. Annoyance flashed in his eyes, even as he gave Alexis a toothy grimace of a smile.

"Your mother is a lot of things, Alexis." Simmons couldn't help but chuckle. "Smart isn't one of them."

"You don't honestly expect them to believe you didn't take me, do you?"

"No." Simmons stroked his chin. "I was just buying time. Not that I have to worry about your mother or her…_friend_." He chuckled, and the sound sent another cold chill down the teenager's spine. "Where we are, Detective Beckett has no jurisdiction."

"Like that's really gonna stop her." Alexis quirked an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest. She wouldn't go so far as to call Vulcan Simmons stupid; no, this was more hubris than anything else, and maybe she could use that to her advantage.

"Something on your mind, little girl?"

"Oh, nothing." Alexis shrugged her shoulders. "Just…throwing Detective Beckett's mother in her face doesn't seem like the smartest thing in the world."

"Really." The smile on Simmons' face disappeared as he dropped to a knee. "Do tell."

"It's like waving fresh blood in the face of a great white." Alexis shook her head. "Once you've done that, no matter how many times you tell that shark to stop, it's gonna keep swimming." A tiny smile tickled the corners of the teenager's mouth, and she didn't try to hide it. "She took a bullet to the chest and lived. She watched the same sniper put a bullet in my mom, and now that sniper is dead."

Understanding etched its way into Simmons' dark features, and his nostrils flared with the frustrated sigh expelling from his lungs. He shook his head, his right hand curling into a light fist.

"Taking me was a mistake, too." Alexis scoffed and shook her head. "Detective Beckett and my mom aren't just some cute little fantasy for you to waste away the night dreaming about…they're madly, deeply, sickeningly in love with each other, so…stealing Ricki Castle's kid? I'd like to think someone as powerful as you is smarter than that."

"And if I'm merely following orders?"

"Then your boss is an idiot." Alexis was so matter-of-fact, the slight tilt of her right shoulder accentuating what she considered to be such a blatant truth that everyone knew it.

"Maybe so…" Simmons stood again, grabbing his phone from the inside of his blazer, swiping his thumb over the contacts. "But he's powerful and untouchable. Either way, this is almost over." Turning to leave the room, Simmons flashed another smile that showed off his gold teeth, ignoring Alexis' scowl.

"Yes." Simmons spoke into his phone. "Contact the El-Masris, tell them the 30 million-dollar random is acceptable. They wire the money in twenty-four hours, I'll release their daughter." Simmons laughed and glanced over his shoulder. "No…no, I think I'll hold onto the redhead for a little while longer."

Alexis watched Vulcan Simmons disappear down the hall, too busy pocketing his phone to close the door to the room where she and Sara were being kept. She jumped, though, at the sound of a muffled gunshot filling the otherwise silent air, jumping back with a gasp when she saw Simmons fall lifeless to the floor, a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.

The blood trickled down his forehead and onto the floor, and before Alexis could move or react, she watched another tall man dressed in military fatigues stomp into the room, a semi-automatic rifle cradled in his right arm. The man wore white hair and a matching beard, and there was a scar running down the right side of his face.

His eyes were a striking blue – not unlike Alexis'.

"You Alexis Castle?" The man's voice was gruff, like he had a mouth full of sandpaper.

The teenager could only nod.

The man holstered his weapon and walked past Alexis before kneeling down and picking up the sleeping Sara, hoisting her over his shoulder. "Good. And I'm guessing this is the El-Masri girl?"

Again, Alexis could only nod.

"Let's go, then." The man walked past Alexis again, and she followed him as he stepped out of the room, careful not to step on Vulcan Simmons' considerable corpse. Alexis gave the black man one last look, part of her actually disappointed that neither her mother nor Detective Beckett would get a shot at him.

Still…gift horse, mouth, all that jazz.

"Who _are_ you?"

The man turned the corner, careful to make sure his steps weren't too forceful, lest he wake the sleeping teenager with her head pressed against his shoulder. "A friend."

"How do I know that?" Alexis shook her head, struggling to keep up. "How do I know you're not another crony like Simmons?"

"I'm getting you out of here, aren't I?"

Alexis sighed; she couldn't really argue with that logic. "Can I at least get a name?"

The man stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder at the redhead, and a mysterious, almost devilish, glint flickered in his eyes. "Derrick Storm."

Alexis watched the man start walking again, her mouth agape.

"_What?!_"

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><p><em>Ricki's loft…<em>

With the location of Vulcan Simmons ascertained, the FBI task force that had set up shop in Ricki's kitchen had left – which was a relief, not just because it meant she was closer to potentially getting her daughter back, but because it meant Will Sorenson was no longer in the picture. Things were tense enough with Alexis gone; Ricki didn't care for one of Kate's exes skulking about the place too.

But the tension remained, mostly because of Martha's declaration the previous night – the one where she blamed Kate for Alexis' kidnapping and the assertion that if anything happened to the younger redhead, Martha would never forgive her only daughter.

For all the issues Ricki and Martha had over the years, there was never any outright animosity between them. But if Ricki didn't get Alexis back alive and safe…

Ricki sat hunched over the island in her kitchen, nursing on her mug of coffee as another mug sat on the island, steaming and waiting for its intended. Kate emerged from Ricki's office, wearing a surprisingly easy smile on her face and carrying a box.

Ricki quirked a brow, handing Kate the other mug once the detective set the box on the island. "Good morning, Detective Beckett."

She gave Ricki a knowing smile before taking her first sip. "Morning, Castle."

Ricki pointed at the box. "What's the occasion?"

Kate cocked her head to the side with a frown. "Seriously, Castle? It's your birthday."

Ricki blinked. "Is it?" She took a sip of coffee, mostly to buy herself a few seconds. "Huh…I guess with everything that's been going on lately, it slipped my mind. I mean…what's my birthday if my daughter's not here?"

Kate cradled Ricki's hand into hers, closing the distance between them and giving the writer a slow, loving kiss. "We'll get her back, Ricki. The FBI has a location, they have a plan. Alexis'll be bursting through that door and into your arms before you know it."

Ricki gave a sad smile and pressed her forehead against Kate's. They shared a quiet moment, letting the hopefulness fill them both, before Kate pushed the box in front of Ricki, her smile growing.

"In the meantime, I think we could use a little happy…so go on, open it."

Ricki did just that, pulling the top off the white box and tearing through the tissue paper. She gasped when the gift was revealed to her, smiling from ear to ear as she reached into the box – before pulling out a navy blue bulletproof vest, almost exactly like the one Kate and the boys wore from time to time.

But instead of "NYPD" or "POLICE," this one read "WRITER."

"Oh my god…Kate!" Ricki clutched the vest against her chest, her smile growing even more as she started bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "I _love_ this!"

Kate couldn't keep the smile off her face if a gun had been pointed at her head. "Yeah?"

"Of course!" Ricki tore at the Velcro straps before hoisting the vest over her shoulders and replacing the straps again. The writer smoothed her hands over the front of the vest again before giving Kate another smile and approaching for a deep kiss.

Kate smiled against Ricki's lips, wrapping her arms around the writer's waist before reluctantly breaking the kiss and rubbing her nose lightly against Ricki's. "Happy Birthday, Castle."

The smile on Ricki's face never faltered. "I'm officially part of the team now. I can't wait to wear this thing in the field."

Kate couldn't hide the laugh that spilled from her throat. "Let's not get too carried away with testing it out, though, okay?"

"Yeah, I think I've had enough being shot for one lifetime."

A knock at the door interrupted the moment, and Ricki felt her heart skip a beat. Was this about Alexis? Exchanging a look with Kate, the writer sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to keep her nerves in check before she crossed to the front door and pulled it open.

"Captain Gates." The frown on Ricki's face deepened. "What are you doing here?"

Victoria Gates quirked a brow at the sight of Ricki Castle wearing a bulletproof vest before shaking her head. "I'm here to see Detective Beckett."

Ricki stood to the side. "Well, in that case, come on in."

As soon as she saw Captain Gates step into the loft, Kate lowered her gaze and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Sir, I know what I did yesterday was wrong—"

"You're damn right it was, Detective! We're just lucky Mr. Simmons isn't building an army of lawyers to sue us all the way to Ithaca." The captain sighed and shook her head. "I could overlook that, if it were the only case of you acting irrationally."

Kate frowned, casting a glance at Ricki. "Sir?"

"You assaulted a federal agent last night?" Gates shook her head, approaching Kate and thrusting a thumb over her shoulder. "Not to mention your little…arrangement with your girlfriend here? The one where you went over Captain Montgomery's head to get the mayor's okay?"

"Actually," Ricki interrupted, "I was the one who went to the mayor."

Gates ignored Ricki, getting even closer to Kate and narrowing her gaze. "Allowing an unqualified civilian to accompany you to crime scenes, interrogations…a decision that has led to both of you being shot, might I add." Gates shook her head. "Assaulting a suspect, assaulting a federal agent…Detective Beckett, I must say, the reality is not matching the reputation."

"Sir—"

"The youngest woman ever to make Detective in the NYPD." Gates shook her head. "Beat me by six weeks. The way Montgomery talked, I was led to believe you walked on water, Detective. Yet here you are, up to your neck in it and the water level's rising."

"I'm sorry, sir, but—"

"You're _sorry_, Detective?" Gates shrugged her shoulders. "And what is that supposed to accomplish, exactly? Sorry won't solve your mother's case. Sorry won't bring back Ms. Castle's daughter. Fact of the matter is, you're becoming a liability, Detective."

Kate's mouth hung open, and she shook her head. "How can you—"

"I have enough of a mess on my hands with Montgomery's little scheme. The last thing I need is his pet detective playing loose with the rules and doing whatever she damn well pleases, no matter the consequences." The captain extended her right arm, palm open. "Your badge and gun, Detective."

Kate frowned. "You're suspending me?"

"No." Victoria Gates shook her head. "I'm firing you."


	33. Chapter 33: Spy Daddy

_Ricki's loft…_

"They can't _do that_! Can they?"

Kate sighed and shook her head, staring at a random spot on the floor. "I believe they just did, Castle."

"No." Ricki paced back and forth in the foyer to her loft, shaking her head and still wearing the bulletproof vest her girlfriend had just given her as a birthday gift. The last thing she wanted to do right now was take it off. "No, that's _bullshit_, Kate! You're the best they've got. And fucking Gates—"

"I guarantee Gates is just following orders." Kate sniffled and took a seat on one of the stools at the island in the kitchen. "That's really all she's good for. One PP places the hurdles and she dutifully jumps over them."

"I can call the mayor!" Ricki was still pacing, wringing her hands together. "One phone call to Bob and we can have you back at the Twelfth in no time!"

"No, Castle, just…" Kate crossed the distance between herself and the writer, wrapping her arms against Ricki's waist and burrowing her face in the crevice between her neck and shoulder. Ricki's arms automatically went around Kate's shoulders, giving them a squeeze. Ricki pressed the side of her head against Kate's, and the two women fell silent.

Ricki tightened her grip on her girlfriend, secretly wishing she had taken off the vest after all – if for no other reason than one of the side compartments was pressed into her ribcage and it was getting a little uncomfortable.

But she kept her grip on Kate, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Castle."

Ricki almost didn't hear her, but even when the words registered, she could hear her lover's voice crack a little. Ricki pulled out of the embrace just enough to look at Kate, brushing her thumb over her cheek. "Hey, no…"

"No, I mean it." Kate shook her head, her lower lip quivering. "I've been nothing but trouble since we met, Castle. Your first case shadowing me threw us right back into my mom's case…I got shot, _you_ got shot, and now your daughter's missing and now we can't do anything to save her and I'd understand completely if you hated me and wanted nothing more to do with m—"

Ricki's lips crashed against Kate's, the writer's hands cradling her girlfriend's cheeks. Kate rested her hands on Ricki's shoulder, closing her eyes and deepening the kiss, ignoring the stray tears rolling down her cheeks.

Ricki broke the kiss, placing a series of small, loving kisses to Kate's forehead, still holding the former detective's face in her hands. "Listen to me, Kate…"

Kate's eyes drifted up to Ricki's.

"You're not a burden to me. You never have been." Ricki kissed Kate's forehead again. "I don't care what anyone says – not Esposito, not Captain America, not Mother, no one. I love you, Kate Beckett, and badge or no badge, you are the most remarkable, extraordinary person I've ever met."

Burying her face in the crook of Ricki's neck again, Kate tightened her grip on her lower, closing her eyes and simply enjoying the warmth of Ricki's body and the comfort of her words. Ricki's words had comforted Kate for years, and she still had to pinch herself over the fact that they could now do so in a more personal manner.

"We'll figure all of this out," Ricki promised. "We'll get Alexis back. We'll solve your mother's case. One way or another, you'll get your badge back."

Kate pulled back to look in Ricki's eyes, shaking her head. "How are you so sure of all this?"

"You almost died, Kate. Hell, _I_ almost died." Ricki brushed a strand of hair behind Kate's ear, smiling warmly at her girlfriend. "Yet here we still are. We've done the impossible, Beckett, and that makes us mighty."

Kate smiled and kissed Ricki. "You're pretty amazing, you know that?"

"I have my moments."

Another knock at the door interrupted the moment, which prompted an eye-roll from Kate and a confused look from Ricki. The two women exchanged a look before Ricki gave Kate's hand a squeeze and went to answer the door.

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><p><em>The Twelfth…<em>

Detectives Ryan and Esposito didn't bother knocking before pushing their way into Victoria Gates' office, Esposito slamming the door shut behind him with enough force that the blinds banged against the glass and drew the attention of several uniforms throughout the bullpen.

Looking up from her paperwork, Gates removed her glasses with a sigh before leaning back in her chair. "And here comes the part where the loyal partners demand answers."

"No." Esposito's hands were clenched into tight fists. "This is the part where Ryan and I call you out on your holier-than-thou Internal Affairs downtown bullshit…_sir_."

Gates folded her arms over her chest. "Is that so, Detective."

"Are you really gonna kick out the best cop we've ever had in Homicide?" Ryan shook his head, his hands firmly planted in his pockets. He was fidgety and nervous, but to his credit, Ryan wasn't shirking away from Gates. "I mean, have you seen her closure rate?"

"That doesn't give Detective Beckett the right to take matters into her own hands and act irrationally." Gates shrugged. "And you can't tell me you agree with her decision to allow an untrained civilian to tag along while you solve cases."

Ryan and Esposito shared a glance, before the latter detective leaned forward and rested his fists on the surface of the desk. "Is that what this is? You don't like the fact that Castle's been shadowing Detective Beckett?"

"Or do you just not like the fact that Beckett's with a woman?"

Disbelief and anger flashed in Gates' eyes, and she leaned forward in her chair. "You better be damn careful when you go around accusing people of being bigots, Detective Ryan." The interim captain sank back in her chair again. "Look, I get it. You're both upset that Detective Beckett's no longer a part of this team. But it's her own fault, and you two would do well to learn from her example and make sure you don't make the same mistakes. You're good detectives; I'm sure you'll do just fine without her."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged another look and a nod before Esposito regarded Gates again, disdain and anger in his eyes as he grabbed the badge hanging off the chain around his neck, pulling it off, and tossing it onto Gates' desk. He reached behind him to grab his service piece, placing it on the desk as well.

"No." He shook his head. "Fuck you. I'm out."

Gates looked stunned as Esposito walked out of her office, not noticing as Ryan approached her desk. Once his presence finally registered, she saw him place his badge and gun on her desk as well.

"Roy Montgomery might've been a dirty cop…" Ryan shook his head. "…but at least he knew how to run a precinct. I quit."

* * *

><p><em>Ricki's loft…<em>

As soon as Ricki opened the door, a streak of red rushed toward her, small arms wrapping around her waist and causing the writer to lose her footing. Ricki's arms wrapped around the form pressed against her, more for the sake of her own balance than anything. Once her fingers brushed against soft hair, though, Ricki looked down and almost lost her breath.

"Alexis?" Ricki dropped to her knees, her eyes wide. "Alexis!"

The writer wrapped her daughter in the tightest hug she could possibly muster, squeezing her eyes shut as tears built in them. Alexis returned the hug in kind, her shoulders bobbing up and down. Ricki stroked the teenager's hair, kissing the top of her head and sucking in a deep, ragged breath.

"It's okay, pumpkin." Ricki glanced at Kate, a tear rolling down her cheek. "You're okay. It's okay. You're home now…"

Kate joined the two women in the doorway, wrapping her arms around Ricki and giving her girlfriend a squeeze. The former detective then looked up to see a tall man with broad shoulders standing before the trio in military fatigues, his hair and beard white. She cringed at the sight of the scar on his face, before her eyes went to the teenage girl standing to his right.

"Sara El-Masri?"

The young girl nodded.

Relief took over the disappointment of having lost her job, and even though she was no longer a cop, Kate's detective instincts took over. She led Sara into the loft, kissing the top of Ricki's head before leading the other teenage girl into Ricki's office, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

Badge or no badge, she was going to reunite Sara with her parents.

Finally pulling Alexis out of her embrace, Ricki smiled and sniffled, cradling her daughter's face in her hands. Alexis smiled and brushed aside a tear that fell down her mother's cheek, and Ricki huffed a nervous laugh.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

Alexis shook her head. "We're okay, mom. We're okay."

Ricki pulled her daughter into another tight hug, letting out the sob she'd been holding onto for the last couple days. She squeezed the redhead before pulling out of the embrace and kissing Alexis' forehead. "I bet you're _starving_."

"Actually…" A gruff male voice interrupted the moment. "We ate on the way over here."

For the first time, Ricki noticed the man standing in the doorway, frowning at his military getup and the weapon strapped to his back. She stood, her hand on Alexis' back, cocking her head to the side. "I'm sorry, and you are…?"

"The man who saved your daughter." The man sounded like his vocal cords were made of sandpaper. He stepped across the threshold into the loft, and when Ricki caught sight of his striking blue eyes, she frowned in confusion.

"Well, believe me when I say I can't say 'thank you' enough." Ricki shook her head. "But…that easy? Just like that?"

The man shrugged. "Put a bullet in Vulcan Simmons' head and got them out."

"Who _are_ you?" Ricki shook her head, following the man to the kitchen, trying not to freak out over the fact that he was treating himself like he was at home, pulling open her fridge and grabbing a bottle of water, downing half of it in one chug.

"CIA." The man shrugged. "Sort of. Been tailing Simmons' associates for a long time. Hostage recovery wasn't exactly my mission, but once I saw he had two teenage girls hostage – and I saw who they were – I had to act."

"Yeah, well, the daughter of a Saudi billionaire is a pretty big deal."

The man shook his head. "Actually, I was talking about Alexis."

"But why would…" Ricki shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm having trouble wrapping my head around this. First, I find out my daughter was the target, and now you're telling me my daughter was the reason you intervened? I mean, I'm glad you did, don't get me wrong, but…I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Come on, you're the mystery writer. You mean to tell me you can't put two and two together?"

"You're investigating Senator Bracken, aren't you?"

The man shrugged. "That's classified."

"Don't you 'that's classified' me!" Ricki crossed the island, getting in the man's face. For some reason, she felt emboldened by the vest she was still wearing, even though she knew this man wouldn't dare fire his weapon here, even if provoked. "What's going on here? What are you investigating? And for that matter…who the hell are you?!"

The man smirked, crossing back to the living room. "Call me Derrick Storm."

Ricki laughed and shook her head. "Right, okay. Ha-ha, very funny." Ricki followed the man with a shrug of her shoulders. "No really, who are you?"

"I just told you."

"Okay, are we just going to ignore the fact that Derrick Storm isn't real?" Ricki shook her head. "Not to mention dead?"

"Two facts that make it easier for me to do my job unnoticed."

"Fine. I guess I won't sue for copyright infringement, then." Ricki shook her head, crossing in front of the man who had borrowed her most famous character's name, casting a glance at his face. "There's something else, though. I mean, damn if you don't have eyes that look _just_ like my daughter's…"

Storm smirked. "And here I thought your girlfriend was the investigator."

"Come on." Ricki sighed. "You have _her_ eyes. You tell me you intervened on Simmons because he had Alexis. You knew to bring her _here_. Your alias just so happens to be the same as the character who made me enough money to ensure that Alexis' kids are set for life. I may not be an investigator, but I've weaved enough mysteries over the years to know that when people think there's something under the surface, there's something under the surface. So _spill_."

"Fine." The man sank himself into the cushions of Ricki's couch, casting a glance toward Ricki's office as Kate emerged with Sara El-Masri in-tow. He looked up at Ricki again, a soft, knowing smile crossing his aging features.

"Rebecca…I'm your father."


	34. Chapter 34: Family Reunion

_Ricki's loft…_

Ricki was so stunned by the admission at hand that she didn't notice Kate returning from the office with Sara El-Masri in-tow. Ricki stood at the island in the kitchen with her mouth agape, Alexis now by her side with a questioning glance of her own. The redhead wasn't saying anything, but clearly the wheels were turning in her head just as much as her mother's.

"I'm sorry." Ricki cleared her throat. "You wanna run that by me again?"

Kate slipped a hand around Ricki's waist, trying to ignore the prying – if not slightly curious – gaze from the older man standing on the other side of the island. His scar was harsh under the light, and the lines on his face were even more noticeable. "What's going on, babe?"

Ricki sighed and shook her head. "This man claims to be my father."

Kate arched a brow and glanced at the man again. His eyes resembled Alexis' more so than Ricki's, but there was at least a little bit of a resemblance there. "Well…uh, it's nice to meet you, Mister…?"

"Storm."

"Oh, cut the crap!" Ricki shook her head. "You wanna use that name in the field, go right ahead, but if I _am_ your daughter, don't you think you owe me your _real_ name?"

The man sighed, his eyes darting back and forth between his daughter, the woman by her side, and the teenaged redhead. Revealing his real name was probably the last thing he wanted to do – and Ricki half-expected him to deflect, citing operational protocol or some bullshit like that – but Ricki folded her arms and arched a brow. She wasn't about to back down off this.

Kate wasn't the only stubborn one in the room.

"Fine." The man slumped his shoulders with a sigh, shaking his head. "My name is Rodgers."

Kate and Ricki exchanged a look. "Rodgers."

The man who called himself Derrick Storm shrugged, as if the admission was no big thing. He barely noticed Ricki crossing to his side of the island – at least, until her finger jabbed into his shoulder.

"Does that mean my mother's been married all these years?" Ricki cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. "Huh?"

The man straightened his posture. "Where is Martha, anyway?"

Ricki sighed and stroked Alexis' hair with her right hand. "Pumpkin, give Gram a call, tell her to come over. She's been worried sick about you."

As Alexis wandered off to the couch to place the call, Kate and Ricki exchanged another look before the writer glanced down at the other teenage girl. Sara appeared to be healthy and uninjured, but she was clearly as confused about what was going on as everyone else.

"You get in touch with her parents?"

"Sort of." Kate shrugged. "Agent Sorenson's sending a couple people over. They'll pick her up and reunite her with Anwar and Lina."

Normally, Ricki would bristle at the mention of Agent Sorenson, but considering the bombshell that was just dropped on her – and she didn't mean the return of her daughter – she decided her girlfriend's ex was pretty far down the list of priorities at the moment.

Instead, she glared at the man next to her. "Start talking."

"You know I can't do that." The man shook his head. "I can't compromise myself like that."

Without thinking, Ricki smacked the man across the face, feeling one of her nails lightly scratch across his cheek. It wouldn't come close to comparing to that scar along his eye, but it still gave Ricki the tiniest sliver of satisfaction.

"No." She shook her head. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to play procedure and protocol. Not after rescuing my daughter and then dropping that bomb on me. Now spill!"

"When Martha gets here." The man straightened his posture, before turning his attention to the woman standing by Ricki's side as a small grin crept onto his aging features. "Oh, my…is this Nikki Heat? _The_ Nikki Heat?"

Ricki rolled her eyes.

"Please." The man smirked. "My alias is Derrick Storm. Are you really surprised I know of your most recent work?"

"Kate Beckett." She frowned, having had to stop herself from saying _Detective_ beforehand.

That was going to be a hard habit to break.

"Well…" The man shook his head again with another smirk. "I should've known there was something more than just professional curiosity. I mean, the dedication alone should've been a dead giveaway."

"Great. You know about my love life." Ricki shrugged. "You know I have a daughter. You know what I do for a living. Yet I still don't know a damn thing about you!"

As if on-cue, Martha burst into the loft, making a beeline for Alexis. The two redheads clashed together in a frantic, borderline violent hug, Martha lifting Alexis slightly off the ground and swinging her around. Martha let out a relieved wail as she tightened her grip on Alexis, closing her eyes.

"Oh, _Alexis_, darling!" Martha broke the embrace, only to cradle Alexis' face in her thin hands, showering the younger redhead in a series of kisses befitting of a grandmother. Alexis, for her part, just squinted and let her grandmother dote on her. "I'm _so glad_ your okay!" Martha's features hardened, and she looked Alexis in the eye. "You…_are_ okay, right?"

"Mmhmm." Alexis nodded with a grin. "I'm fine, Gram."

The sound of a throat clearing from the kitchen snapped Martha out of her euphoria-induced stupor, and when she looked up, the sight didn't immediately register. Ricki and Kate were standing, hand-in-hand, by the island in the kitchen, and it wasn't until Ricki nodded her head to the side that Martha noticed the man standing next to her.

The man with the white hair and beard, wearing military fatigues, with a nasty scar over his…right…

_Oh, my…_

"Richard?!" Martha bolted upright again, crossing over to the kitchen. "What _on Earth_ are you—"

"Mother?"

When Martha glanced at her daughter again, she saw an expectant, even borderline accusatory, stare. Martha slumped her shoulders with a sigh, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Alright, kiddo. What do you want to know?"

"Is it true?" Ricki glared at the man. "Is this my father?"

Martha hesitated, sharing a glance with the man before he gave a single nod. "Yes." She sighed. "Richard is your father."

"Richard Alexander Rodgers." The man held out his hand, as if now were the perfect time for manners and pleasantries. Ricki stared at the hand, too confused and dumbfounded and, frankly, angry to play along.

"Mother…now might be a good time for an explanation."

"Darling, I think you're a bit old for the birds and bees."

"Dammit, Mother!" Ricki sighed when she felt Kate's hand squeezing hers, her shoulders slumping as she sat on one of the stools at the island, running her free hand through her hair. "I meant…where has he been all this time? Why not tell me the truth from day one?"

"Because I told her not to." Richard crossed over to slip an arm around Martha's waist, planting a kiss to the top of her head. "The missions I work, the life I lead, I couldn't subject the two of you to that kind of danger."

"So…what?" Ricki threw all decorum out the window. "You just knocked Mother up and bolted?"

"_Rebecca!_"

"We met at an after-party one night." Richard smiled in nostalgia. "_The Phantom of the Opera_ had been playing, and Martha was magnificent in it. We hit it off almost immediately, and since I was convinced my professional life was behind me, I didn't fight it when I fell in love."

"I did." Martha sighed wistfully. "At first. But Richard had a certain…charm about him that made him impossible to resist, even when he was at his most insufferable."

Martha and Richard shared a laugh, and he squeezed her shoulder. "We'd been together about six months when we realized Martha was pregnant." Something dark flashed in Richard's eyes, and his shoulders hunched. "The times being what they were, we got married as soon as we found out."

Ricki shook her head. "You're married?"

Martha waved her hands for dramatic effect, a wistful smile still on her face. "This whole time."

Ricki shook her head and pushed herself off the stool, wandering through the living room straight toward her office. "Thanks for letting me know…"

She didn't even notice when her father called out after her: "It was for your own safety!"

Kate followed after Ricki into the office, shutting the door behind them before crossing to Ricki's desk and slipping her arms around the writer's waist from behind. Ricki leaned against her, and Kate rested her chin on Ricki's shoulder. The writer's hand softly ran along the back of Kate's hands.

"All these years, I thought my father had just…abandoned us." Ricki shrugged and shook her head. "Mother would always tell me she didn't remember much about him, that he was just someone she hooked up with one night."

Kate tightened her grip. "And now?"

"Hey, I'll be the first to admit that having a spy for a dad is pretty cool." Ricki managed a huff of a laugh, even with the tears in her eyes. "When I was ten, I read _Casino Royale_, and that was the book that made me want to become a writer. Hell, Alexis can go to any school she wants, debt-free, all because of Derrick Storm."

Kate leaned in and kissed Ricki's temple. "But…?"

"But knowing they've been married this whole time?" Ricki shook her head. "It just…I think about what could've been. You know? What it would've been like growing up with both parents. Not having to move from apartment to apartment while Mother was between shows. Something more stable, more…I dunno, normal."

"That's only natural, Castle." Kate slipped out of the embrace before crossing in front of Ricki, taking both of the writer's hands into her own. "I grew up with both parents; I didn't lose mom until I was nineteen. But I still…" The former detective sighed. "You always want more time. One more day. One more hour. One more minute."

"I know I should be happier to see him." Ricki sighed. "I mean, he saved my daughter."

"But to just show up after all these years, out of the blue, with no answers…"

"And to find out he wasn't just a one-night stand…"

Kate pulled Ricki in for a soft, loving kiss, her fingers caressing the side of Ricki's face. The writer slipped her arms around Kate's waist, and Ricki let herself get lost in the moment. For a few seconds, she didn't care about her father or any cases or anything else; she was in the arms of her girlfriend, and she was thankful that at the very least, that hadn't changed.

Even if everything else had.

Reluctantly, Ricki broke the kiss, shaking her head and heaving a deep sigh. She let her fingers trail over the side of Kate's neck, paying particular attention to the way the other woman shivered. Ricki gave Kate another kiss, this one a promise of things to come later that night – because she felt like it was something they both needed after the past few days.

"Guess I can't avoid them forever…"

Kate squeezed Ricki's hand as they walked out of the office, and Ricki's heart skipped a beat when she saw Richard and Martha sitting at the island, each of them nursing a glass of wine as Martha's hands waved dramatically as she spun whatever tale that had the man enthralled.

"Mother, please don't tell me you're embarrassing me already."

"Oh, Rebecca…" She waved dismissively and smiled. "Offering Richard a glass of wine and some company is the least I could do after he saved Alexis."

"Martha, you haven't changed a bit." Richard grinned as he finished off the rest of his glass. "Makes me sorry I had to be away for all these years."

"Will you be staying around, dad?"

"I wish I could." Richard sighed. "But…unfortunately, putting down Simmons and rescuing the girls wasn't my mission." He stood, approaching Ricki and Kate, giving the former detective a nod before reaching out to grab Ricki's shoulder. He smiled when she didn't recoil. "Look…I know you have questions. And I'll answer them. Someday. Just…"

"Not now." Ricki nodded and averted her gaze. "I get it."

"You know, you were right earlier." Richard looked at Kate this time. "I have been investigating Bracken. That's why I was tailing Vulcan Simmons, which was how I discovered he had Sara and Alexis."

Kate frowned, straightening her posture and grabbing Ricki's hand. "Why?"

Richard sighed. "That's classified. But…it's huge."

"Murder huge?"

"You have no idea." Richard approached Kate, extending his right hand. "I know we just met, and this is all a huge shock for everyone, but it's clear that you make my daughter happy, so I'd be happy to call you an ally."

Kate shook Richard's hand with a bemused look on her face. "That's…great, but ally for what? I'm not exactly employed anymore."

Richard gave a knowing smile. "You let me handle that."


	35. Chapter 35: Conspiracy

_The Twelfth…_

With only fifteen minutes left before midnight, the Homicide floor was almost deserted. Most detectives had turned in for the night, but a few stragglers were hunched over their desks, phones glued to their ears as they desperately chased anything resembling a lead. Many of those who had gone home had done so under protest, not happy with the fact that in the last forty-eight hours, they'd lost their three best detectives.

No one was happy with Victoria Gates' decision to fire Detective Beckett, and while everyone had wanted to turn in their badge and gun in the aftermath, Detectives Ryan and Esposito had been the only ones brave enough to actually do it.

Gates, the interim captain following the investigation into Roy Montgomery's involvement in a kidnapping-mobsters-for-ransom scheme, glared through her window into the bullpen, content that no one was paying her any mind. She closed the blinds and returned to her desk.

Checking the clock on her desk, Gates grabbed the receiver of her phone, pressed it against her ear, and pushed a series of buttons on the console. She removed her glasses, waiting for the line to connect. She sucked in a deep breath to calm herself when the call connected, clearing her throat.

"This is Captain Gates."

"_I trust everything is in order, Captain?_"

"It is." She twirled a pen in her free hand. "Detective Beckett is no longer employed with the NYPD, effective yesterday."

"_Good. Everything is proceeding according to plan, then._"

"As an added bonus," Gates added with a chuckle, "her two pet detectives are no longer on the force, either."

Silence hung on the line for a few moments.

"_You fired them, too?_"

"No." Gates shook her head and couldn't help but smirk. "They barged into my office like they owned the place, threw their badges at me, and told me to stuff it."

The voice on the other end laughed. "_Predictable little lap dogs._"

"Not to mention…" Gates leaned back in her chair, a smug grin playing across her features. "Vulcan Simmons is screaming about suing the NYPD. You and I both know he won't actually do it, but if it further besmirches Beckett's character…well, I say that's a win-win."

"_Agreed. Because you and I both know she won't let not having a badge stop her._"

"Oh, I'm aware." The smile on Victoria's face disappeared. "I've spent the last fifteen years listening to everyone worship the ground that bitch walks on; that's why I jumped at the chance to take over this precinct when Roy went down."

"_And that's why you were the first person I asked, Vicky. If this is going to work, we need Beckett out of the way. And while we're at it, we need to make sure that writer friend of hers doesn't go poking around where she doesn't belong._"

"You let me take care of Ms. Castle." The dark smile returned. "Shouldn't be too hard."

"_That's just what I wanted to hear, Captain. Keep up the good work, and there might be a judicial opening in your future._"

"Thank you, Senator Bracken. I appreciate that."

* * *

><p><em>Ricki's loft…<em>

The clock read 4:16 a.m., and neither Kate nor Ricki could sleep. Ricki laid on her back, staring at the ceiling, her girlfriend curled up against her, Kate's head resting on her chest. They were both naked, and their bodies were still coated in a sheen of sweat – mostly because they both figured that since they couldn't sleep, they could do other things.

Kate was hoping this latest round would tire them out to the point where sleep would overtake them no matter what, but there they laid together, eyes wide open. It was disconcerting.

Then again, what about the past few days _hadn't_ been?

"What's on your mind, Castle?"

"You mean aside from the fact that my daughter was kidnapped, I just met my father, and my girlfriend is now unemployed?" Ricki huffed a nervous laugh, her fingers lightly trailing over Kate's shoulder.

"Yeah, it has been quite a few days, hasn't it?"

"And then to find out Ryan and Espo up and quit?" Ricki shook her head, but she couldn't keep the bemused smirk off her face. "Not gonna lie, I kinda wish I could've seen Gates' face when that happened."

"Like smacking a beehive with a baseball bat." Kate leaned in and placed a series of small kisses along Ricki's collarbone, smiling against her girlfriend's skin when the writer arched her back slightly with a hiss. With a smile, Kate leaned up and gave Ricki a soft, almost teasing kiss, her fingers trailing along the writer's dark locks.

Kate broke the kiss far sooner than Ricki wanted, and the writer pouted once their lips parted. But once she saw the look in Kate's eyes – which were striking, even in their dark bedroom in the dead of night, Ricki lifted her head. "Hey…"

"I'm sorry, Castle."

"What for?"

"My baggage." Kate's fingers drummed against Ricki's chest. "Seems like ever since we met, we're always dealing with something from my past, and…" Kate shook her head, burying her face in the crook of Ricki's neck. "God, Castle, if something had happened to Alexis…"

"Hey…" Ricki slipped her arms around Kate's shoulders, pulling her in closer with a tight squeeze, kissing her temple. "None of this is your fault, okay?"

"But…"

"But nothing, Beckett." Ricki sat up slightly, the covers draped over her thigh as she pulled Kate in for another tight embrace, before pulling back just enough to look into her eyes and trail her fingers along her jawline. "I don't care what Mother said. I don't care what Captain Square Jaw said." Kate huffed a laugh, and Ricki smiled. "I have never once blamed you for any of this, because it's not your fault."

Kate glanced down at Ricki's hand. "It feels like it is."

Leaning in, Ricki placed her face in the middle of Kate's chest, closing her eyes and planting such a soft, loving kiss to the scar between Kate's breasts that the former detective sighed and blinked back tears, overwhelmed by the reverence contained in such a simple gesture. She thanked Ricki with a loving, deep kiss of her own, a tear spilling down her cheek.

"Kate…" Ricki swallowed, kissing her girlfriend's chin. "It's not your fault you got shot. It's not your fault _I_ got shot. It's not your fault Alexis got kidnapped, and it's damn sure not your fault that your mom was killed. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Kate leaned into her girlfriend with an exhausted sigh, her fingers trailing over the writer's back, tracing a line along her spine. She smiled sadly and shook her head before meeting Ricki's gaze again, her eyes filled with wonder.

"And what about you, Ricki?" Kate cocked her head to the side.

Ricki shrugged. "Okay, my world's been kinda torn upside down a little. I'm not gonna lie, finding out who my father is, knowing that he and Mother were together all these years and I was never a part of it…that stings. And…I think I'm still in shock, more than anything."

Kate stroked the hair out of Ricki's face. "You're a lot stronger than you get credit for."

"No, I'm really not." Ricki gave a sheepish smile. "I crack jokes. I take people I don't like, turn them into book characters, and embarrass the hell out of them. Remember the crossdressing taxidermist in _Flowers For Your Grave_?"

Kate frowned. "The one who was ripped apart by rabid hyenas?"

Ricki nodded. "That was the guy Kyra started seeing after we broke up. I didn't even bother changing his name."

Kate visibly blanched. "Remind me never to break your heart, then…lest you turn Nikki Heat into some loser drug addict."

"Never." Ricki kisses Kate full on the lips, her arms tightening around her lover. "Look, point is…Alexis is okay. You're here with me. Everything else?" The writer shrugged. "I'm not gonna sit here and say it doesn't suck, but…I think it'll all work out."

"When did you become such an optimist?"

Ricki shrugged with a smile. "When you fell in love with me."

Kate smiled and leaned down to kiss Ricki again, this time a deep, longing, frantic clashing of lips and tongues and teeth. Ricki laid back onto the mattress as Kate straddled her hips, the writer's hands roaming up and down Kate's back until they found station on the former detective's backside, giving it a firm squeeze.

Before Kate knew what hit her, though, Ricki turned the tables, flipping them over so Kate was on her back before Ricki's mouth slid down the side of her neck, over her collarbone, and again paying loving attention to her scar. Ricki's hands cradled and squeezed Kate's breasts, Ricki's thumbs brushing over her nipples.

Kate bit her lip, even as her hips found a rhythm against Ricki's thigh. She wanted so desperately to call out her lover's name, but she couldn't trust herself to keep it at a decent volume. Instead, she tugged on Ricki's hair and found a steadier rhythm with her hips, letting her eyes flutter shut as the writer's mouth continued working south.

By the time Ricki's mouth found the heated core between Kate's legs, she forgot all about the worries of the day.

* * *

><p><em>The Old Haunt…<em>

"Maaaan…" Kevin Ryan shook his head, before resting his elbows on the surface of the bar and pressing his forehead against his forearms. "Jenny is gonna _kill_ me!"

Javier Esposito smirked and shook his head, polishing off his beer before sliding the empty bottle to his right, hearing it clank against the cluster of empty bottles. There were eight bottles in total to Esposito's right.

"See, bro?" He smirked again. "S'why I'm still single…"

"And here I thought it was your complete lack of charm." Ryan hiccupped and grimaced as the bartender strode past and left him another bottle. He took the first swig before blanching and pushing the bottle away. "What'm I gon' do, Javi? I can—I can't go home and tell Jenny I quit my job."

"Why not?" Esposito shook his head, grabbing the beer Ryan pushed aside and finishing it off. "That's what you did."

"What _we_ did."

Esposito scoffed a little too loudly – drawing curious stares from a couple in the booth behind them. "Details, details." He waved his hand at his partner – well, _former_ partner – scrunching his brow. "Don't know 'bout you, bro, but…I got options."

Ryan arched a disbelieving brow. "Options."

"Yeah!" Esposito swayed slightly on his barstool, grabbing the bottle that was originally meant for Ryan and twirling it between his hands. "I can—I got that whole military thing goin' for me. I can do…oh, private security, I can find work at 'nother precinct." His eyes lit up, and Esposito flexed his arms. "Male dancer…"

"Yeah, great." Ryan sat up a bit, swallowing thickly with a frown. "_You_ have options. What 'bout me? All I've ever been's a cop."

"You'll figure it out, bro." Esposito slapped Ryan's back, but a little too harder than he intended, and Esposito cringed when Ryan yelped in pain and sat up a bit more upright.

"What about Beckett?"

Esposito blanched. "What d'you mean, 'what about Beckett'?" He scoffed and shook his head, purposefully avoiding Ryan's gaze. "She's got…she's got that rich hottie of a writer now." Esposito's face contorted into a snarl, and Ryan arched a brow.

"You _still_ got a problem with Castle, Javi?"

"Damn wannabe cop's got my girl, bro." Esposito swayed on his stool again. "Least she could do is hook us up with floor seats for the Knicks."

Ryan leaned in, pausing to swallow again. "Two things…one, Beckett's not your girl. Never…never has been. Two…" He arched his brow again. "Have you _seen _the Knicks this season? Couldn't pay me to watch that in-person."

"Please." Esposito shook his head. "Beckett just…she just needs a taste of ol' Espo."

"Okay, you…" Ryan pulled himself off his stool, grabbing the barstool when he lost his footing. "You are officially cut off, Javi. And I advise you to shut your yap, before I have to defend Beckett's honor."

"What?" Esposito frowned. "You sweet on her, too?"

"No." Ryan tossed a bunch of crumpled-up bills onto the bar before grabbing Esposito by the arm and letting them both stagger toward the exits. They leaned against each other, trying not to run into chairs and tables before spilling out into the night air. "Jus' making sure you don't…you don't cross a line."

"Hey." Esposito snatched his arm out of Ryan's grasp with a scowl. "Least I wouldn't keep digging up her mom's case."

"Alright, you know what?" Ryan swallowed again with a cringe, struggling to even stand still at this point. "M'not having this talk with you. Not now. Go home, Javi. We both need to…need to…" He shook his head and sucked in a deep breath. "Yeah."

Before Esposito could say anything else, Ryan staggered off into the night, disappearing around the corner.


	36. Chapter 36: Unraveling

_Ricki's loft…_

After what was probably the calmest day they'd had in at least two weeks, Kate and Ricki were enjoying some of the best sleep they'd had in a while. Kate was sprawled out over Ricki, her head on the writer's chest, her arm wrapped around Ricki's waist. Her quiet snores broke the silence of Ricki's bedroom, moonlight streaming onto the floor to the left of the bed.

For the moment, Kate wasn't worried about being unemployed; the euphoria over having Alexis home safe and sound practically overrode every other worry Kate and Ricki had at the moment. Sure, there would be time later to worry about Kate finding another job or Ricki dealing with the fallout of finally meeting her father, but for now, they were content to just enjoy the proverbial moment.

The peace was interrupted, though, by an ear-piercing scream from upstairs – a sound so loud, so unexpected, that Ricki bolted upright with a yelp of her own, tossing the covers aside and grabbing the soft navy blue robe that hung over her chair. Her eyes locked with Kate's as she fastened her robe, and Kate fished her robe off the floor before the two women burst from the bedroom.

In no time, the duo crossed from Ricki's office, through the foyer, and they bounded up the staircase, taking two steps at a time. Ricki's heart pounded against her ribcage, another scream filling her ears. This one wasn't as loud as the one that woke them up, but there was an urgency and a panic to it that drove Ricki to burst forth even faster.

Leading with her shoulder, Ricki stumbled into Alexis' room, taking in the sight of her teenage daughter sitting upright, clutching the covers to herself, wide blue eyes darting back and forth. Without a second thought, Ricki lowered herself onto Alexis' bed, wrapping her arms around the redhead and pulling her close as Kate hung back, turning on the light.

Alexis closed her eyes and buried her face in the crook of Ricki's neck, huffing a series of quiet sobs as Ricki tightened her grip.

"Shh…" Ricki stroked Alexis' hair and kissed the top of her head. "I'm here, pumpkin. "It's okay."

Ricki and Kate exchanged a worried look as Kate tentatively lowered herself onto the bed, placing a soft hand on the small of Ricki's back and rubbing it. Ricki gave her daughter another squeeze.

Alexis tightened her grip on her mother, her fingers tangling in Ricki's robe, her grip so tight that her knuckles turned white. The redhead sniffled and looked up at Ricki, her eyes red and puffy, her breathing shallow and ragged.

"Mom…"

"You're safe, Alexis." Ricki brushed an errant strand of hair out of Alexis' face. "You're home now. I'm here, and so is Beckett. They can't get you anymore."

Alexis sniffled, her eyes glancing at Kate before returning to her mother. "You promise?"

Ricki held Alexis' face in her hands, leaning in to place a soft, loving kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Always." She continued stroking her daughter's hair, pausing only to swipe away the occasional tear that trickled down the redhead's cheek. "You think you can get back to sleep?"

"Can you leave the light on?" Alexis cringed as she asked. "I mean, I know I'm a teenager now, but…"

"Hey." Ricki kisses Alexis' forehead again. "It's okay. Whatever you need."

Alexis laid back down and Ricki tucked her in, pausing to brush a strand of hair out of the teenager's forehead again. Ricki leaned down for another forehead kiss, closing her eyes to stem the tide of her own emotions. Alexis didn't need to see her mother so visibly affected by this; that was better left for the privacy of Ricki's bedroom and the comfort of her girlfriend's arms.

"I love you, pumpkin."

"Love you too, mom."

Once Ricki and Kate were back in the hallway, making their way back to the writer's bedroom, Ricki heaved a sigh and shook her head. She felt Kate's hand intertwining with hers as they came down the stairs, their fingers interlocking. By the time they reached the foyer, Kate stopped Ricki with a tug and gave her a soft kiss.

"You okay, Castle?"

Ricki wanted to say yes. She wanted to project confidence, that self-assuredness that was a cornerstone of her personality back when she and Kate first met. But the truth was, she was scared. She had no idea what to do for Alexis now; something told her all the hot chocolate in the world wouldn't make this go away.

"I just…" Ricki sighed. "I wish I could take it all away, you know?"

Kate nodded and squeezed her girlfriend's hand, and they started making the slow trek back to Ricki's bedroom. "I can give Dr. Burke a call, you know, if it keeps up or gets worse."

Once they were back in Ricki's bed, Kate rested her head on the writer's shoulder again, and Ricki kissed the top of her head while giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Thank you." Another kiss to the top of Kate's head. "For everything."

Kate looked up at Ricki, and the two women exchanged a kiss. "The things we do for those we love."

"You ready for tomorrow?"

* * *

><p><em>The Twelfth…<em>

Fortunately for everyone involved, Captain Gates wasn't in the office when Kate and Ricki stopped by to gather Kate's personal effects from her desk. That didn't make it any less awkward, though, when the elevator doors opened and practically everyone who was there gave Kate a standing ovation as she wandered toward her desk.

Kate and Ricki exchanged a confused glance, and Kate's heart tugged a little when she passed by the desks that once belonged to Ryan and Esposito. Their name plates were still on their respective desks, but the chairs were empty.

That felt wrong on so many levels. The fact that they'd quit in support of Kate…she felt a little guilty for that. Kate and Ricki having their lives thrown out of whack was one thing. She didn't want to be responsible for the upheaval for the boys as well.

Especially Ryan. Jenny was probably so pissed at him.

"Looks like you've still got quite the fan club," Ricki whispered into Kate's ear once they reached her desk.

Kate sighed and placed an empty cardboard box on the surface of the desk, shaking her head as she started placing random items into the box. A framed photograph of her father, a little woven stick figure Ricki had never seen before that had been tucked away in a drawer. Other random odds and ends whose story Ricki wanted, but decided this was neither the time nor place to pry.

If nothing else, her relationship had taught Ricki the virtue of tact.

Occasionally.

Two ceramic elephants – one large, one small – were carefully placed into the box, before Kate grabbed a ceramic grouping of elephants, four in total, lined up from largest to smallest. Kate's fingers trailed over the colorful pattern on the back of the largest elephant, a wistful smile on her face.

"My mother loved these," she whispered. "Said they were a family. Just like us."

Lifting the statue from her desk to place it in the box, Kate paused when she thought she heard something rattle. Her eyes locked with Ricki's, who was now sitting in the ragged chair beside the desk. Ricki quirked a brow as Kate shook the statue in her grasp. The rattling was louder this time.

"What the-?"

"It sounds like there's something in there." Even as she said it, Ricki couldn't believe it.

Sitting at what used to be her desk, Kate stared at the elephants clutched in her hands. She gave the statue one more shake, just to make sure the rattle was still there. It was, and her pulse quickened. Kate could feel the dull _thump_ of her heart, even in her temple, and she locked eyes with Ricki again.

"Kate…"

Kate glanced at the ceiling. "Sorry, mom."

She smacked the statue against the edge of the desk, cringing when the ceramic broke off into large chunks. Something fell to the ground, and Kate set what was left of the statue aside to reach down. Her heart skipped a beat when she sat back up, a miniature cassette tape clutched in her fingers.

She glanced wide-eyed at Ricki. "Castle…"

Ricki gasped. _It's been right in front of you for years…_

"Is that…?"

"Only one way to find out." Kate sucked in a deep breath, almost overwhelmed by a combination of adrenaline and dread. "Know where we can find a tape player?"

"I've got one."

* * *

><p><em>Ricki's loft…<em>

"Why am I not surprised you have a mini tape player, Castle?"

Ricki offered a sheepish smile once they were in her office, hoping the levity succeeded in cutting the tension that had been palpable once they discovered the tape hidden in those elephants. The box of Kate's belongings had been left back on the stairwell, and both women were so nervous about what might be on the tape that they were shaking.

"Because my apartment is nothing if not a collection of completely random stuff?" Ricki stood, placing a tape player on her desk. "Come on: you're talking to a girl who has a life-size Boba Fett statue in her bathroom."

"Fair point."

Ricki opened the compartment for the tape before holding out her hand. "You ready, Kate?"

Kate sighed and pulled the tape out of her pocket, shaking her head and handing it over to Ricki. "No, but…let's just do this. Maybe this is nothing. Maybe it's a collection of showtunes my mom liked."

Kate didn't believe that, and neither did Ricki. The writer didn't say anything about it, though, choosing instead to take the tape and place it in the slot. Closing the compartment, Ricki pressed play before joining Kate's side, their hands intertwining.

_Raglan, shut the door_.

Kate flinched at the sound of a door closing, glancing over at Ricki. They both knew who that voice belonged to, and Ricki automatically squeezed Kate's hand.

_You three got a lot of balls coming here._

_Look, we just want to make sure we're all on the same page. You took a lot of money from us, Bracken. We want assurances._

Kate shook her head. "Fuck you, Roy…"

_Hey, be happy I haven't busted the three of you for your little mafia extortion ring!_

_Whoa!_

_Relax…_

_No, no…_

_You want assurances? Here you go…I assure you that as easily as I pinned Bob Armen's murder on Pulgatti, I could just as easily put it on the cops who actually did the deed._

Ricki shook her head. "So Pulgatti _was_ innocent."

"Mom wouldn't have taken his case if he wasn't, Castle."

"And Bracken just admitted to blackmail."

_Pulgatti knows he's been framed. What if someone gets onto this?_

_Then I'll handle them._

_You? How?_

_I know people, Roy. Dangerous people. Anyone who gets too close – like that bitch lawyer Johanna Beckett who's been poking around – I'll have them killed. I've had people killed before…_

Ricki stopped the tape, swallowing back the bile rising in her throat before turning to Kate. Her mouth hung open, the sheen of tears forming in her hazel eyes. Kate held onto Ricki's hand like a vice, and though the writer was in pain from the grip, she said nothing. In fact, Ricki closed what little distance remained between then, using her free hand to caress Kate's cheek.

"Beckett…"

"Castle…" Kate turned to face her girlfriend, shaking her head. "Castle. Bracken…he…"

"I know, Kate." Ricki kissed Kate, her thumb swiping away a tear that fell. She broke the kiss and cupped Kate's cheek, sniffling and shaking her head. "Senator Bracken is a money launderer, an extortionist, and a murderer."

"He hired Coonan." Kate's voice was almost a whisper, and she leaned into Ricki's touch. "He killed my mom because she was doing her job…"

"And we'll bring him down."

"How, Castle?" Kate sniffled and shook her head. "I don't have my badge anymore."

"Then whatever my father's got planned, he better hurry." Ricki sighed.

Kate slipped her arms around Ricki's waist, resting her head on her girlfriend's shoulder. The tears burning in her eyes refused to fall, and her fingers dug into Ricki's back as the writer tightened the embrace even more. Kate shook her head with a sniffle, Bracken's unknowing confession playing in her head on repeat.

A man who was embarking on a run for president – who had somehow managed to dodge scandal when Roy Montgomery first released the file about the mafia extortion ring – was responsible for her mother's death.

That Bracken wasn't the one with the knife was inconsequential; without his order, Johanna Beckett would still be alive. Without his order, Jim Beckett wouldn't have lost five years in a bottle. Without his order, Kate Beckett would've never become a cop.

Without his order, Kate and Ricki wouldn't have scars from sniper's bullets.

"What do you wanna do, Kate?"

Kate looked at her girlfriend with a sad smile, sniffling and shaking her head. "Got a way to contact your father? Because I don't like the idea of anyone other than me slapping the cuffs on Bracken and tossing him into the back of a squad car."

Ricki gave Kate another squeeze. I'll see what I can do."


	37. Chapter 37: Confrontation

**_Author's Note: Sorry for the length of time between posts - I was sick the last few days, and apparently juggling four fics at once isn't the best idea in the world. But...feel free to check out my new fix, Not Just A Cop - and please, review!_**

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><p><em>Ricki's loft…<em>

Even with all of the craziness of the past several days, Ricki had to catch up on her writing. Black Pawn wanted as much of the new Nikki Heat manuscript as Ricki could give them by the end of the week. Something told Ricki that George wanted the manuscript more than anyone else at the publishing company, her second ex-husband seemingly oblivious to everything that had gone on of late.

Not once did George ask if Alexis was okay upon her return. Not that Ricki was surprised; George had always been lukewarm toward her daughter, at best, and if Ricki was being honest with herself, that was a major reason their marriage fell apart.

If Ricki was going to give herself to someone, that someone had to accept Alexis as part of the deal. George hadn't been willing to do that. Fortunately, there were no such issues with Kate.

Kate was spending the afternoon having lunch with her father; Jim had invited Ricki to tag along and she really wanted to, but the manuscript had to come first. After all, as successful as the first two Nikki Heat books had become, Black Pawn was counting dollar signs and eager for the next installment.

Apparently, Nikki Heat and Jamie Rook made quite the pair.

Martha had taken Alexis out for a day of food and shopping, and Ricki knew from experience that meant she wouldn't see Alexis until the next day. Which was fine; she loved how her daughter and mother bonded, and this time it came with the added benefit of giving Ricki time and quiet to write.

Which was why Ricki huffed in frustration when she heard a knock at her door.

She reluctantly rose from her chair, dark hair in a messy bun. Ricki wore an oversized maroon t-shirt that hung slightly off her right shoulder, black sweatpants accentuating the perfect stay-home-all-day-and-write ensemble. Unsure of who could be visiting her, Ricki stared into the peephole on her door, rolling her eyes and yanking open the door.

"Captain Gates."

Ricki didn't even try to keep the venom out of her voice, and the writer took silent pleasure in the fact that her tone made the other woman slightly recoil. But Gates regained her composure, far more quickly than Ricki would've liked. "Ms. Castle."

Ricki rolled her eyes. "Beckett's not here."

"I'm actually here to talk to you." Gates barged past Ricki and into her loft without waiting for an invite – an invite Ricki was not about to give her – and the writer snuck in another eyeroll as she closed the door.

"Then make it quick. I've got a pushy publisher."

"Let me be clear, Ms. Castle." Gates folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her dark eyes. "Whatever arrangement you had with Captain Montgomery that allowed you to serve as a consultant with the NYPD? That's over now. You are officially barred from my precinct."

Ricki burst out laughing, shaking her head. The laugh intensified when she saw confusion and annoyance etch their way onto the captain's features, and Ricki leaned back against the island of her kitchen as the laughter eventually subsided.

"Look, I knew you have a mighty high opinion of yourself," Ricki burst into another laugh, "but to think I would want to stick around the Twelfth with you there and Beckett…not? I never thought you were that stupid, Captain."

"Ms. Castle—"

"You listen to me, Victoria." Ricki closed the distance between the two women, her jaw setting in anger. "Unless you're here to tell me that you're stepping down as captain – and that Detectives Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito are being reinstated – I'm not interested in anything you have to say."

Gates shook her head. "You know, I'm not the bad guy here."

"Funny." Ricki folded her arms over her chest. "As someone who's written a bad guy or two in her day, that's exactly what you're acting like. Hell, for all I know, you're as dirty as Montgomery and you forced Beckett out as part of some grand conspiracy."

Though Gates didn't respond immediately, Ricki could tell by the look on her face that she had struck a chord somewhere. Part of the writer wanted to pursue that, dig just a little bit deeper, get the rest of the story. But the last thing Ricki needed was to wind up in a jail cell, and until Kate found her way back into law enforcement – somehow – there wasn't much any of them could do.

So instead, Ricki went back to the front door, opening it, and giving Gates as acidic a smile as she could muster. Ricki was usually more hospitable than this, but given present company, she wanted nothing more than to throw the captain out on her ass.

"Now, if that's all, _Captain_…get the hell out of my house."

Gates' steps were purposeful as she walked through the threshold, as if she wanted to make sure Ricki heard the clack of her heels against the floor. She stopped at the doorway, glancing over her shoulder and shaking her head. "This isn't over, Ms. Castle."

With an eyeroll, Ricki slammed the door in Gates' face, turning to walk back to her office. "Go fuck yourself."

Ricki was just about to get back to her office when another knock at the door stopped her. Ricki huffed another sigh of frustration and curled her hands into fists. Why did people insist on paying her a visit when she was trying to get some work done? More importantly, why were they paying her a visit while she was trying to knock out a Nikki-Jamie sex scene?

People's timing really did suck.

Reluctantly, the writer crossed back to the foyer, pulling open the door – her look of frustration immediately morphing into curiosity. "Esposito?"

Javier Esposito looked like he had seen better days. He wore at least a week's worth of stubble on his face, his eyes were slightly bloodshot, and if the bags under them were any indication, he hadn't slept in a good long while. His look of confusion matched Ricki's as he tossed a thumb over his shoulder. "What was Gates doing here?"

Ricki shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Little Miss Holier-Than-Thou tried banning me from the precinct. Like I have any more reason to be there."

Shrugging, as if he were content with the explanation, Esposito walked across the threshold when Ricki stepped aside. "Look, can we talk?"

"Yeah, sure." Ricki crossed into the kitchen, pulling open the door to the fridge and grabbing two bottle of water. She sat at the island, tossing one of the bottles Esposito's way before taking a swig from her own. "What's up?"

"Look," Esposito sighed as he caught the bottle. "I know we got off on the wrong foot."

Ricki shrugged with another swig. "Hey, no big. I get it, Javi. Civilian butting in on official police business, there was bound to be some blowback."

"It wasn't just that." Esposito cracked open his bottle and took his first swallow.

Another shrug from Ricki. "I know."

Setting his bottle down, Esposito cocked his head to the side with a frown. "What?"

"I know." Ricki shrugged again. "Look, it was clear early on you had a thing for Beckett. Way I figured, you either had something with her and it went wrong, you tried and got rejected, or you've never had the chance to tell her how you feel."

"The third one." Esposito hunched his shoulders and averted his gaze before straightening his posture again. "Then…knowing about you and your reputation, throw in some protective big brother bullshit…"

"You were worried I'd hurt Beckett." Ricki polished off the rest of her bottle. "So what changed?"

"When she got shot." Esposito shook his head. "It was still so early on with you two, no one would've blamed you if you had bailed. But you didn't. You were there with her, every day. There were days we had to beg you to go home. You were there for her, and you helped us bring down the bastard who did it."

Ricki's mind instantly went back to the tape she and Kate discovered the previous day – and the fact that they were sitting on it, out of some selfish need for Kate to be the one to make the ultimate arrest. Ricki knew it was probably dumb, but it didn't seem right going down any other way. So until they found a way to get Kate back to the precinct…

"Just wish we could've brought down the guy who killed her mom."

"Point is…" Esposito stood. "You proved you were in it for the long haul. She deserves that. Not some square-jawed wannabe fed who bails at the first job offer. Not some doctor who's always traveling the world saving sick kids. You're good for her, Ricki, and Ryan and I appreciate you for it."

Such blunt honesty from Esposito was a bit of a surprise; other than the day at the precinct where he had threatened-not-threatened Ricki, there hadn't been much of this soul-bearing between them. Granted, Ricki had spent much of her short time shadowing Kate focused on _just_ her, so it wasn't like Ricki had bonded much with Ryan and Esposito.

Still, Beckett had obviously trusted the two men, so Ricki felt a sort of affinity for them as well. Even with Esposito's tough-guy act when they first met.

"Thanks, Javi. But I have to ask," Ricki paused and waved her hand in front of her face, "and don't hate me for this, but…why admit this to me?"

Esposito's eyes narrowed, as if he were considering the question for the first time. Ricki fished another couple water bottles from the fridge, sliding one across the island to the former detective. He tore off the cap and took a long sip, probably to buy himself just a little more time before he had to give an answer.

"You ever have to just…get something out, even if it don't make a damn difference?" Esposito shrugged, took another swig. "I've stared down the barrel of a sniper rifle, Castle. I've had guys I served with bleed out in my arms. We keep things from each other. In the service, in life. But in that moment? When they know they're about to die? None of that matters anymore."

Swirling her own swig of water around in her mouth before swallowing, Ricki gave a single nod. "Saying something simply because it needs to be said, no matter the consequences."

"Something like that." Esposito shrugged again. "Look, I know this doesn't change anything. You love her. She loves you. You two are clearly happy together. In the end, seeing the way you make her smile…I can live with that."

Ricki barely suppressed a smirk. "She'd kick your ass if you told her, wouldn't she?"

"All the way to One PP and back." Esposito rose from his stool, capping his half-empty bottle and sliding into one of the pockets of his cargo pants. He crossed over to Ricki, extending his right hand. "You keep making Beckett happy, you're okay in my book."

"Good." Ricki shook Esposito's hand with a sideways grin. "Last thing I want is someone who's done three tours in Iraq coming after me."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Ricki watched as Esposito headed back toward the front door, frowning a bit as she pushed herself away from the island. "Hey, Javi."

The former detective stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "Yo."

"I know you and Ryan aren't cops anymore, but…" Ricki approached Esposito. "I get a funny vibe from Gates. I don't think she's squeaky clean."

Esposito nodded in understanding, a sly grin slowly itching its way onto his tired, stubbled face. "I hear ya, Castle. I got some contacts over at IA, see if I can call in a favor. Ryan might know a guy or two."

"Thanks, Javi. And…I'm sorry you two had to lose your jobs because of this."

"Please." Esposito pulled the door open and stepped through the threshold. "One thing the three of us got in common, Castle? We'd do anything for Beckett."

The door closed, leaving Ricki to her own thoughts again. She immediately went right back for her office, the manuscript for _Heat Rises_ beckoning to her. On second thought, that sex scene would have to wait. Esposito's words had struck a chord with the writer, and she felt the need to add a scene. It wasn't in the outline, but this wouldn't be the first time Ricki improvised a part of her story.

It probably wouldn't be the last, either.

As soon as Ricki sank herself back into her chair, her phone rang. Rolling her eyes in exasperation – as often as she was being interrupted, one would think she and Kate were trying to have some private time – Ricki frowned when she didn't recognize the number on the display. She didn't normally answer in circumstances like this, but something told her she better do that this time.

"Hello?"

"_Ricki._"

Ricki frowned, her eyes trained on the blinking cursor. "…Dad?"

The gruff voice smirked on the other end. "_I hear you've been trying to get a hold of me._"

"Yeah." Ricki sat up. "Yeah, I have been. Uh…listen, we've got evidence on Bracken."

"_Evidence._"

"Yeah. That ties him to Johanna Beckett's murder."

"_Well, I'd say that's a pretty big damn deal. Where is it?_"

"Somewhere safe." Ricki stood and began pacing back and forth in her office, the scene she was planning to write seconds ago now long forgotten. "Thing is, I think Beckett should be the one to bring him down, but—"

"_The fact that she's no longer a badge is an issue._"

"Yeah."

"_Give me forty eight hours, kid. I'll take care of it._"


	38. Chapter 38: Snowball

**_Author's Note: Once again, if you haven't already, check out my new fic, Not Just A Cop - chapter five was just posted yesterday. Thanks for sticking with me through all the delays and everything, and I love hearing back from y'all. Hope you're enjoying this!_**

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><p><em>One PP…<em>

Richard Rodgers preferred working in the shadows, pulling the proverbial strings from behind the scenes so that once the dominoes started to fall, no one would be any the wiser about his presence. It was safer for him that way, allowed him to survive decades in a line of work that chewed up many a young agent after mere months.

A laundry list of aliases also helped, though Rodgers had to admit that he sometimes had trouble keeping track of them all. It was one of the reasons he loved using the Derrick Storm alias so much; it was easy to remember. Not to mention the swell of pride he felt for his millionaire daughter every time he used said alias.

If Rodgers was being honest with himself, he probably owed her royalties.

Ignoring the protestations of just about everyone on the top floor of One Police Plaza, Rodgers smirked to himself as he pushed his way into Commissioner Daley's office. After studying the commissioner from the shadows for two days, he knew Daley would be in his office – no matter what his secretary tried to say otherwise.

Daley immediately rose from his seat, yellow tie swaying as his wrinkled face contorted in a mixture of confusion and anger. "Just what the hell do you—"

"Pipe down, Commissioner," Rodgers couldn't help but smirk. "I've got some intel you might find interesting."

"And just who the hell are you?"

Thankfully, Rodgers had already chosen his alibi for this particular mission. "Jackson Hunt."

Daley scoffed and shook his head. "Sounds made up."

"Course it's made up," Rodgers smirked. "I'm CIA, covert ops. Do you really think I'd be parading around using my real name?"

"CIA," Daley repeated with a hint of disbelief. "And you're here why…?"

Rodgers pulled a small black USB drive from one of the pockets in his bulletproof vest, slowly approaching the desk and making sure Daley could see the small item in his grasp. "There's an audio recording on this that you need to hear," he explained. "I've been investigating Senator Bracken for a long time now, and I'm afraid his little web of corruption extends to the Twelfth Precinct."

"I know all about the scheme Montgomery was involved in."

"Not Montgomery," Rodgers countered, handing the USB drive to Daley. "Gates."

Clearly suspicious, Daley nevertheless snatched the USB drive from Rodgers before crossing back behind his desk, plugging the device into the side of his computer. Once the device registered, the audio player popped onto the screen and the recording automatically started to play.

_This is Captain Gates._

_I trust everything is in order, Captain?_

Realization washed over Daley's face. "That's Bracken."

Rodgers nodded. "Yep."

_It is. Detective Beckett is no longer employed with the NYPD, effective yesterday._

_Good. Everything is proceeding according to plan, then._

_As an added bonus, her two pet detectives are no longer on the force, either._

_You fired them, too?_

_No. They barged into my office like they owned the place, threw their badges at me, and told me to stuff it._

_Predictable little lap dogs._

_Not to mention…Vulcan Simmons is screaming about suing the NYPD. You and I both know he won't actually do it, but if it further besmirches Beckett's character…well, I say that's a win-win._

_Agreed. Because you and I both know she won't let not having a badge stop her._

_Oh, I'm aware. I've spent the last fifteen years listening to everyone worship the ground that bitch walks on; that's why I jumped at the chance to take over this precinct when Roy went down._

_And that's why you're the first person I asked, Vicky. If this is going to work, we need Beckett out of the way. And while we're at it, we need to make sure that writer friend of hers doesn't go poking around where she doesn't belong._

_You let me take care of Ms. Castle. Shouldn't be too hard._

_That's just what I wanted to hear, Captain. Keep up the good work, and there might be a judicial opening in your future._

_Thank you, Senator Bracken. I appreciate that._

As soon as the recording stopped, Daley shook his head. "Mr. Hunt, what is going on?"

"Senator Bracken has been involved in money laundering and extortion dating back to his days as a district attorney here in New York," Rodgers explained. "He funded his first Congressional campaign with money raised in the mafia ransom scheme. The file Roy Montgomery released several weeks back was the first real evidence we had of Bracken's duplicity."

"But that doesn't explain why he would want one of our best detectives off the force," Daley shook his head again.

"Commissioner, what do you know about Johanna Beckett's murder?"

Daley frowned with a shrug. "Just what was in Detective Raglan's report."

"There's far more than that," Rodgers said. "But let me worry about that. Something tells me you have a bit of a mess on your hands now."

"No kidding." Daley shook his head with a sigh. "Know anyone who can serve as captain of a precinct?"

"No, sir." Rodgers gave a knowing smile. "But I can think of three cops who would probably like their jobs back, once you throw Gates out on her ass."

* * *

><p><em>Ricki's loft…<em>

Kate Beckett was starting to get a little restless. Not that Ricki could blame her; this was the first time since college that Kate had gone for more than a day or two at a time without working. It hadn't bothered her much at first – largely because they were so busy celebrating Alexis' safe return and dealing with the emergence of Ricki's father – but now that things had calmed down, the reality was starting to set in.

Ricki had done as much as she could to put Kate at ease, but she realized there was only but so much she could do – especially since Kate was independent enough that she didn't care for the idea of Ricki "taking care of" her while she looked for work.

Not to mention, George was still on Ricki's ass about the manuscript for _Heat Rises_.

Trouble was, the last few chapters were a chore to write. So much so, that Ricki had to stop what she was doing, lest she get frustrated to the point that she'd be tempted to chuck her laptop across the office. Breaking her computer was the last thing she needed to do. It almost felt as if she had the urge to write something else, to step back from Nikki Heat for a little bit and dive into something else.

Not something new, though. Ricki felt the urge to dive into something familiar, something with which she amassed most of her fortune. For the first time in a long time, she actually _wanted_ to write about the ruggedly handsome CIA agent who had almost singlehandedly made Ricki enough money to send Alexis to whichever school she wanted, debt-free.

Ricki grabbed her empty coffee mug and walked over into her kitchen – stopping when she saw Kate curled up on the couch, a promotional copy of _Naked Heat_ Ricki had managed to snag for her in her lap.

Ricki couldn't keep the grin off her face if she tried. "I'll never get tired of seeing that."

Kate glanced up from the book. "Seeing what, Castle?"

"My girlfriend reading my books," Ricki answered, leaning down to kiss the top of Kate's head. "I don't care if I never make the _New York Times_ list again. So long as you're reading my books, I'm happy."

"Well, just keep writing Nikki Heat and I'll keep reading."

Now in the kitchen, Ricki was pouring two mugs of coffee before crossing back over to the living room and handing a mug to Kate. "And what if I decided to start writing Derrick Storm again?"

Kate sat up with a frown of confusion. "Didn't you kill him?"

Ricki shrugged. "Covert CIA. I could just say the whole thing was a massive cover-up."

"But I thought you were bored with Derrick Storm," Kate argued, cocking her head to the side.

"I was." Ricki sighed and took a sip from her mug. "But ever since I met Dad…"

"Got the spy bug again." Kate couldn't hide her own smile, setting her book aside. "Well, I kinda wanted to kick you when you killed him off, so…"

"Well, to be fair," Ricki teased, "you also kinda hated me."

"No, I didn't!" Kate protested with a large, toothy smile, teasingly pushing Ricki in the shoulder. "Okay…yeah, I kinda did, but you were a bit of an ass at first."

"Hm." Ricki leaned in for a quick kiss, a smug grin on her face. "I was also irresistible. I saw the way you looked at me in that interrogation room. Even then, you wanted me."

Kate's mouth hung open in fake outrage and shock before she shook her head and grinned anew. "Really."

"Mmhmm." Ricki set her mug aside, slipping am arm around Kate's waist. "Admit it, Beckett, you wanted me from day one."

Kate smirked into a kiss, shaking her head. "You're lucky you're hot."

* * *

><p><em>The Twelfth…<em>

No sooner did the elevator doors open, and Commissioner Daley strode out into the bullpen, all eyes were on him. Uniformed officers and plain-clothed detectives alike stopped what they were doing and stared, exchanging nervous glances as Daley pushed his way into Victoria Gates' office and slammed the door shut.

The sound of the door slamming shut broke Gates' concentration, and her look of annoyance disappeared as soon as her head jerked up and she saw her boss standing in front of her, a small USB drive in his hand.

"Commissioner…"

"Victoria." There was an edge to Daley's voice that Gates couldn't quite place, and her gaze narrowed in response. "There something you wanna tell me?"

Before Victoria had a chance to respond, Daley reached over to plug the USB drive into the side of her monitor, placing his hands in his pockets and studying her expression once the audio recording began to play.

The captain simply removed the black-rim glasses from her face with a sigh.

"Captain Gates."

Gates finally lifted her gaze to meet Daley's, the incriminating phone call still playing. "Where did you get this?"

"A concerned citizen." Daley shook his head. "You realize what all this means."

"And you realize that I have friends in high places and won't go down without a fight."

Reaching over to lock the door to Gates' office, and taking an extra second or two to close t he blinds to hide them from the view of the rest of the bullpen, Commissioner Daley straightened his tie and shook off his black blazer with a shake of his head.

"Victoria," he began, "you're not as influential as you think. In fact, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say you're pretty expendable." A knowing smile crept onto Daley's face when the bravado in Gates' eyes started to falter. "You played your part. A little too well."

"Not that it matters." Gates shrugged. "The wheels are already in motion."

"Then it's a good thing we've invented brakes." Daley produced a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket, crossing to the back of Gates' desk before placing her hands behind her back and slapping the cuffs on her wrists. "Victoria Gates, you are under arrest for conspiracy – and needless to say, you are no longer in charge of this precinct."

He lifted Gates from her seat, taking pleasure in the eye roll she gave as he led her toward the door. Daley paused to unlock the door to her office, his hand on her shoulder before he regarded her once more.

"Oh, and Victoria?" Daley's eyes went dark. "You better hope we can't connect you to Johanna Beckett's murder. Because then I'll be the least of your worries."


End file.
